


hogeda jus ste red (All Blood is Red)

by DistantStar



Series: hogeda jus ste red (All Blood is Red) [1]
Category: clexa - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Divergence, Clexa, F/F, Fluff, Not Beta Read, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Spoilers, Rated 'M' for Graphic Content, Rated 'M' for Language, Rated 'M' for Sexual Content, Rated M for Descriptions of Violence, Really minor character death, Slow Burn, eventual clexa, f/f sex, the helicopter fic, turn back now if you don't want to read graphic content and violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 56
Words: 150,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5434646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStar/pseuds/DistantStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She made a mistake.  In leaving, she thought she did the right thing.  But now, everyone wants her dead. And her name isn't Clarke, its Lexa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where the Angel Fell

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATED AUG 27, 2017: Chapter 56  
> NOTE TO NEW AND RETURNING READERS: Please skip to the start of Chapter 55 for an important note about this fic.
> 
> -=-
> 
> I started this work after Season 2, but before Season 3 began. From the start, it deviates from the direction Season 3 goes. It was never meant to be a 'fix it' fic, and I still don't see it as one. But maybe, at least, it is one idea of the way Season 3 might have gone. 
> 
> This work contains some dark content. This work contains content that is sometimes brutal and gory nearly from the very start. This work contains depictions of detailed F/F sex but that is not what this story is based on. 
> 
> If you do not want to read about these things then please turn back now. ONLY CLICK TO READ THIS IF YOU CHOOSE TO READ THESE THINGS AND UNDERSTAND THEY ARE PART OF THIS WORK. More tags will be added and ratings may vary as chapters go on.
> 
> Also, this work might have mistakes. I have no beta readers as of yet. But wish to share this story anyway.
> 
> Copyright stuff: I don't own the 100 or the universe it is created in. I am not making money off this. This is just for fun.
> 
> For now here is,
> 
> hogeda jus ste red (All Blood is Red)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> \--DistantStar
> 
> (a/n: please check out my Tumblr for **more** of my writing.)  
>  adistantstarblog.tumblr.com

Most people like to think that when you walk away from something or someone, that someone will come looking for you.

When you live in space in a metal tin can, there is nowhere you could go to get away.

But Earth is a big planet, which is good, if you don’t want to be found.

The mountain, like it had done at her hands, had fallen off the pages of Clarke's mind.  Maybe she pushed it off.  She did not know.  She only knew that her soul had been stripped to the core again and again and again.  It had started with her father being floated and discovering her mother had been the one to turn him in. It continued with Well's murder, Charlotte's suicide, killing 300 grounders, Finn's murder spree, executing Finn, and then was followed by just allowing a missile to fall on Tondc and then killing 300 mountain men, women and children.  

It took its toll, finally.  It ripped away any emotion she had left.  The result of having your emotion ripped out of you wasn't like walking in a dream as some would think.  It wasn't like watching yourself through someone else's eyes either.  It was like being dropped into a void that held onto you and filled your chest with nothing instead of with breath.  It held onto you and the motions of living were easier to make, even alone in a forest.  They became routine, a pattern, a comfort and a safe place where you finally noticed two contradicting things about time.  The first was that it seemed to stop.  The second was how fast it seemed to speed by.  Days out here could pass in the blink of an eye.  Turning to weeks, turning to months.

She hunted in her forest.  Stepping quietly now over cold, frozen, yet familiar, ground.  No longer thrashing aside branches and making noise.  She stopped and pressed her back to the bark of a tree when she finally spotted her prey, a large buck stripping bark from the base of the trees.  Clarke held her breath.  To save bullets she had become okay -yet not terribly skilled- with a bow.  At least enough to feed herself.  Quietly, watching the deer, she reached over her back for an arrow.

Did she miss the people back at Camp Jaha?

When she thought of them, it was like part of a distant past. She knew they were there. She knew she loved them. But they seemed more like pages from a cherished book that she remembered but lost somewhere along the path that brought her to where she was in life. Did she care about what Lexa did at the mountain?

No.

Not in the sense that some might have thought.

When first left her standing there, the pain was unbearable. Maybe that was when she finally started to break. She had put everything on the line for that treaty. She had killed for that treaty.  She had let people die.  But at the time it happened, she didn’t have time to dwell on the betrayal. She had to act, to save her friends in the mountain.

And after, during the first few days out here alone on Earth, amazingly enough, Clarke didn’t even think about what Lexa did.  She didn't think about it because she had greater scars by then to carry and she knew deep inside that, just like she had done inside that mountain, Lexa also did what she had to do.  Clarke had seen it after all, hadn't she, in the events leading up to what happened at the mountain;  Lexa told her she had let the woman whom killed her lover to live, for the greater good of her people.  Lexa had let a missile land on one of her own villages, for the greater good of her people.  So why, for one minute, should she have thought that Lexa might have chosen differently with her?  Was she that special?

The answer was a resounding no.

And in hindsight she should have seen it coming.

The answer was also that she should not have been so blindsided by her desperation to save her friends as to trust the girl whom had once ordered her dead and also her friends dead without even batting one beautiful green eye.

But she couldn’t blame Lexa. She couldn’t even blame herself.

Like Lexa had no choice but to turn on her, Clarke also had no choice in the beginning but to trust and listen to the grounder Commander and to try and make it work between their people. Because even if they had done it without her, Clarke never would have been able to come up with the choice she had made in that mountain without Lexa. The possibility she could do it was never on radar. It wasn’t there until it had to be.

But she wasn’t going to thank Lexa for walking away, either. There was just no way she could do that.  In fact, in a different sense, she had walked away too.

And right now, for dinner tonight, she was going to have that deer.  

Clarke focused on it.  She pulled back the arrow and --

\--a dark skinned hand wrapped around the wooden shaft. Clark blinked only once and that was the sum of displaying her surprise.

“Don’t make a sound.” Indra’s voice, whispered, just at her ear. Clark would have expected to feel her heart start to race. She would have expected something. But the muscle in her chest knew only how to beat out enough blood to keep her alive anymore and that was all. She glanced at Indra’s eyes, beside her, so close to her face. She glanced ahead again to where the deer sensed them and bolted. Clarke lowered her bow in frustration and turned to the General to glare at her, “why?” she asked, not caring about the warning.

Indra, just stayed locked as she was. After a second she said, “you will come with me.”

“No,” Clark said to her, “I don’t take orders from you. I don’t take orders from anyone.” It had been ..two months? Maybe? Since she had walked away. This was the first she’d seen anyone from her life back then. And it figured it would be Inda, “what the hell are you even out here for? Don’t you have people to push around?”

“I’m looking for you.” Indra replied, “now, come with me.”

“Why should I?” Clarke demanded.

“Because if you don’t, Lexa dies.” Indra answered.

And the words slammed into Clarke like bricks. She didn’t understand what she was hearing. She could not have. She asked in confusion, “what?”

“If you don’t come with me right now,” Indra repeated, “Lexa dies.”

Clarke found her voice, "why do you think I care?"

In return, Indra just gave her that hard, cold look she was used to seeing on the General's face.  The look that challenged her to lie and say she did not.

Clarke wished she could lie, as she stared back.  But even the mention of Lexa's name had made her heart do something other than pump blood.  It twisted.  It turned. It beat like it only ever did for the girl that was both her greatest enemy and greatest ally but also the only one who understood who she was.  It beat like it only did for the girl whom she both hated, and part of her, somewhere, knew she might have started to love.  It beat like it did only for the girl whom had promised everything to her right before ripping it all away from her.  It beat like it did for the only one whom ever made her feel like she was really and truly alive.  

It struck her then that Indra, one of Lexa’s most trusted generals, was actually referring to her Heda by her first name. Indra never did that. A quiver, a tiny shake, of dread and anticipation started to work its way up Clarke’s frozen, empty frame as she realized she had heard Indra right the first time. Licking lips that had gone dry was a mistake; because it made her remember that fateful kiss she’d shared with the commander like a burst of light so blindingly white that it burned. But of course it would because that moment was seared forever in her memory as hope for a future that could never be had, by them, or by their people. Clark finally asked, “why?”  

“She is a traitor.”

Traitor. Clarke’s mouth silently formed the word. The grounder’s had another word for it, “Natrona?”

“Yes.” Indra grunted, “at least you learned well.”

Clark snorted in dry amusement. She studied Indra, “how could she be a traitor? Which one of you thought that one out?” she asked, because while she could come up with a lot of names for the grounder’s Commander – traitor was not one of them. But when she didn’t get any answer except for Indra’s signature icy glare Clarke changed her question, “okay who then? Who would be dumb enough to try and kill Lexa?”

“Me.” Indra answered bitterly. That set Clarke back, because she hadn’t been expecting it. Indra saw the shock and lifted her chin a little before adding, “and the rest of the Commander’s Generals.”

Clarke felt her eyes narrow on Indra, “why?” she demanded under her breath. It wasn’t making any sense, “you guys worship the ground she walks on.”

Indra stared at her for several seconds after that, “not anymore.” She said at last. She scanned the trees around them and looked back at Clarke, “and we’ve said too much in the open, out here. Come with me Clarke of the Sky People,” Indra took a single, and Clarke guessed final, step toward her, “now.”

“Okay.” Clarke answered, shouldering her bow.  She agreed because of that damned kiss, because of Lexa's stunning eyes, because of so many things but mostly because of the aching tug of fear starting in her chest at thinking of Lexa actually being dead.  The grounder general started away and Clarke started after her. They hadn’t gone far, swiftly and quietly through the frosted over trees, stepping on stones and exposed branches to not leave footprints, before they came to a pair of horses by a stream. Clarke stopped only at the sight of them, and watched as Indra swung up onto her Horse. She looked across at Clarke in near exasperation and glanced at the other horse beside hers, “you still know how to ride?”

“Yes.” Clarke stated, and moved quickly and got on the Horse.

Indra nodded at her, then turned her animal around. She took off through the trees. The horse Clarke was on followed impulsively at a breakneck pace after Indra’s. And all Clarke could do, was just hang on.  She wasn't ready to feel again.  She really just was not.  But why else was she on this horse?  Riding to save Lexa? Because it was Lexa. No matter how much she had conflicting thoughts about that, no matter how wrong or right it was. It was like a force of nature they were always pulled together or pushed apart.  It was nothing they had control of.  From the second they had met it was nothing they could stop.  And she felt the pull.  

Clarke did not want to feel it.  She didn't want to feel anything. But with only those few words uttered from Indra, she knew she already was.


	2. Offer Only Truth

Four days later they made camp along the bank of a river. Clarke had never been in this part of the woods, she realized, watching Indra sitting in silence across the fire. She also thought she could smell salt in the air. She had to wonder where they were. But she didn’t think about that. She’d found stones on the way and most the time, occupied herself with wondering what the hell was going on with Lexa while making arrows for hunting. Like she was doing now.

“They didn’t agree with her.” Indra said at last, breaking a silence that lasted the whole four days.

Clark shifted hesitantly, “what?”

Indra looked at her directly, “their cries will never be answered now, because of what you and Lexa have done.”

Clark felt her hesitation turn to trepidation. She put the arrow she had been working on down and repeated her first question,” what?”

“My people were owed the justice of generations of blood.” Indra explained lowly. She kept her gaze locked on Clarke as she stated, “Lexa took it from them. Your Finn took 18 people’s lives, she made him pay. The mountain took lives for generations. They dropped a missile on my village and killed 250 more…”

“..and she let them walk.” Clark whispered. Indra nodded. Clark felt her breath catch sickly in her throat as understanding, if not understanding what happened on that mountain from Lexa’s point of view, was starting to sink in. She understood instead where this sudden death wish from the grounders on the head of their beloved Heda who would do anything or give anything for them was coming from. She was starting to understand why they called her Natrona. Still, she played ignorant, to learn a little more, “you keep calling her Lexa. What happened to Heda?”

Indra sat back, “when all the generals return to Polis,” she stated, “Heda’s spirit must be set free to choose again, and maybe this time choose more wisely. Lexa understands this, and we understand the spirit is not at fault for the actions of the girl.”

“The actions of the girl?” Clarke repeated somewhat in shock. Lexa hadn’t made that damned choice that night lightly. As much as she hated it, both the choice and having to admit it, Clarke knew for a fact that Lexa hadn’t made that choice lightly. She had seen the gloss of tears in the Commander’s eyes even if those tears did not -could not- fall. But Indra hadn’t been there at that door on the mountain. She hadn’t seen those tears nearly fall. She hadn’t heard the words Lexa said. Clarke cleared her throat,“so you will kill her?” She asked, to be honest, she wasn’t shocked. She was more impassive about this. Because her anger had simmered into nothingness even if, at one time, she had wanted to kill Lexa. Had she? Had she? She thought back to the night on the mountain, standing at that door, waiting for the mountain men inside to come and take her, knowing Lexa let them and knowing Lexa walked away from her knowingly leaving her to die. Clark felt a tight breath escape her lungs as pain for the first time in months threatened to replace it as she realized that yes, she wanted to kill her. But to say it, to admit, to even acknowledge that Lexa had hurt her and that a torrent of starkly conflicting emotions was at war buried so deep into her soul that to recognize it would cause agony and blank rage and love to hit her so hard all at the same time she just wouldn’t be able to function which would be the end of her ability to blank it out. But she felt that knowledge threatening. It was at the brink of surfacing, listening to Indra now. Clarke found a lid, a tight one, and put it on all that roiling emotion. She drew a blank stare she had learned from the commander herself, “so why am I here if you don’t care about her?”

“I never said I didn’t care.” Indra, for the first time in all the time that Clarke had ever known her, actually shifted with a moment’s hesitation that glimmered ever so briefly in those dark eyes, “you’re here,” she said quietly, “because you are the only one who can end this. Everyone fears you, Clarke of the Sky People. You are the only one who can save her now.”

Clarke was stunned, “you care?” She said after a second needing to hear it again that this hardened warrior, who never bent to anything, who followed the letter of what was law even if it meant turning on one of her own people, was probably going against everything she knew to save someone she thought was a traitor, “about Lexa?”

Indra shifted, she turned away from the fire and reached for her weapons. Getting to her feet she changed the subject, “I will take first watch.”

Clarke snorted, “I thought you don’t stand post.”

Indra however ignored that. Instead she turned and strode into the forest, “we will ride into Polis in the morning.”

 --

Indra didn’t go far. She stopped at the bottom of the next rise. After a few seconds, a slender, pale-skinned shadow jumped down and landed near her in the dark. Indra greeted, “Octavia.”

Octavia was concise, “Indra.” She said. She looked up the hillside the direction Indra had come from, “will she do it?”

Indra was truthful, “I don’t know.” She paused before asking her former second, “Lexa?”

Octavia’s nod was hesitant, “was still alive. At least she was at sunset. Indra, they haven’t given her anything to eat in two days.”

“Then she will die soon.” Indra answered.

Octavia nodded. Then she asked what had been burning on her mind ever since the warrior-general had sought her out, “why are you doing this?”

Indra stiffened. She regarded this girl in front of her, the girl with the strong spirit, the girl who refused to give up. And she realized she owed her a truthful answer, “because,” she said, mirroring words that this girl’s lover had told her time and time before as he begged for the lives of the sky people, “what they are doing to Lexa is wrong.”

Octavia beamed, “then you think she is still fit for the title of Heda?”

Indra grunted and refused to answer that, “is everything ready in Polis?”

“Nearly.” Octavia answered, realizing her question was not going to be answered.

“Then hurry, and get back there.” Indra said, she turned to go. Behind her, she knew Octavia was starting to move away. The girl was silent now, on her feet, so silent that one would never know that she had been born in the sky. But something about that made Indra turn, “Octavia?” she asked into the dark behind her.

There was no answer. Indra grunted. The girl was fast too. She knew that. She turned away again and started back up the hillside, to the campfire and Clarke, waiting above.


	3. The Jus Tri (The Blood Tree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa, tied to the blood tree is remembering her past lives, and the girl who fell from the sky - named Clarke.

_“Chesa!”_

_She was tied to the Blood Tree. Her eyes had long been cut out. General Hern had done it himself some days ago. Her external ears had also been removed, but sometimes, if she moved her head just right, the canals themselves still faintly worked. She could faintly hear Cambri sceaming for her, tears strained in the voice. In the last dark corners of her mind, she thought she heard scrambling and soldiers cursing. Then her girl’s hands were on her gripping her, “Chesa…”_

_The desperate grip, the desperate plea, for her to still be in there somewhere, somehow made Chesa struggle free from the grip of death she had given herself to. She made her mouth work, even if her tongue was already gone. She lifted her head a little and mouthed the words, “I will find you. Death is not the end.” this was something she always said to whatever incarnation the girl she loved was in.  As a commander, one way or another, you died young._

_That brought sobs from Cambri, and the girl was clutching at the remains of her clothes._

_“Get her off of her!” the voice of General Ash, whom had once been Chesa’s most loyal, filtered in as a harsh whisper, though she was sure that Ash, in all her glory, must surely be shouting._

_Chesa felt the girl pulled from her roughly, and then she felt the steel of Ash’s blade slide deep into her heart…_

 It is said, that she was a different Commander, than her ten incarnations before her. Lexa had heard it whispered, when her warriors and generals hadn’t known she overheard. And she didn’t correct them, or even let them know she had heard a word of what they said. It was true. She had been a different Commander. In her heart, she always wanted something more than to just Survive the Earth.  She could battle.  She would battle.  She most always won her battles. But she did not want a battle.  She wanted so much more than war.

Sometimes, over the course of her 19 years, in the quiet moments in the deep of the night, even though she was never quite sure if she was dreaming them or hallucinating them or really feeling them, she thought she remembered bits and pieces of some of those past lives as though the strongest memories had passed on with the spirit.  Chesa had been the Fourth Commander. She traded her people for the life of her love. Cambri lived only two years longer, the legends said, and though young had died in her sleep. Commander Chesa, of course, would surface now. Because like Chesa, she was going to meet her physical death here, tied to the Blood Tree.

They had not mutilated her yet, like they had done to Chesa.  No, that would come at the hands of her Generals. But they had been cutting on her nearly 100 times a day, and then healing her at dusk, to ensure she lasted long enough for everyone whom had lost a loved one to the mountain or Tondc a chance to have their blood. It left her weak, too weak to see the stars and sky, those stars at night where Clarke had fallen from, the blue sky during the day stunning as her eyes. Small comfort they were when the last she saw those eyes, they were filled with betrayal, tears that wanted but did not fall like rain.  In her last sight of those eyes they had been filled with unbearable pain..

Clarke had not understood why she had done what she had.  She could not.  She hadn't been hardened by Earth enough.  Her warriors, though, had been hardened by the Earth they were born to.  Warriors that now waited silently far down near the base of the hill.  In fact, a camp had been made there. Waiting her death, waiting for the Commander Spirit to be freed.  Hoping, maybe, it would choose one among them.  She hoped it would too.  Even though they were killing her, they were still her people.  But alone in the dark at the top of the hill, tied to the Blood Tree, a single oak against the star-line over Polis, Lexa’s body sagged in the chains that held it up. She no longer could do as much as that for herself. Though it had been cut now over a hundred times, her dark blood painted what was left of her skin and fed the roots at her feet. Though she could no longer keep from screaming out each time a new cut was made. It was a stingingly similar sensation. It had happened to Chesa for a girl she loved. And in the morning they would come again, and it would start again, Lexa knew. But she hoped against hope, she had at least saved Clarke.

  _“Laurel,” Sali’s voice was desperate. So was the girl’s hand shaking her shoulder, “Laurel, they are coming, we should--”_

_Laurel shifted and turned in the blanket to see the blade slice silently and fast embedding itself in Sali’s head. Blood dripped from the corner of Sali’s still open mouth and the girl fell to the ground of the forest with a sickening thud. She hardly could register the shock as she jumped from their bed, blade drawn. But in the light of their dying camp fire, warriors dropped out of the trees, countless numbers of them. They jumped her. She fought hard. Her blade slicing through necks, arms and wrists in the firelight. She knew she would fall. The numbers were too great. And Sali was already dead. But what she didn’t understand is how so many of them got into the trees before she knew… distraction was death. An arm hooked around her throat._

Fragments of Laurel left in Lexa's memory said, that days later, after being drug back to Polis behind her own horse, Laurel too had been tied, with Sali's remains tossed on the ground in front of her, to the Blood tree. They let Laurel keep her eyes a while longer than they had Chesa, only so that she might witness the desecration of her lover's corpse. Sali had been a child of the Azgeda. It was seen as highest treason when it was discovered they had wed. A Commander could not marry outside her own people. Especially one of the enemy. And their love had been before the coalition that united the clans into one people.  Somewhere in her memory of being Laurel, Lexa was pretty sure Sali's fate had been one piece of many that led her to unite the clans.

It took six days for Laurel to die. They thought, it was from the cutting.

But it was from heartbreak.

Laurel had been the Fifth Commander.

The next five Commanders between her and Laurel had never felt love.  And Lexa didn't have very many memories or visions from them.  Perhaps over her life, a scattered handful at most, twice only of the only man she had once been, a Commander named Elk.  Or the handful of times the bloody Commander that had been Nora, sometimes whispered words of strength to her when she had none.

Lexa had been called as the 11'th Commander.

And there had been Costia.

Costia, whose death she had chosen against her angry heart, not to avenge, for the sake of her coalition, something Costia believed in.   But Costia's death itself had taught her with finality what Chesa and Laurel and found; that love was a weakness, a mistake, and had no place for her or any who would be given the title of Commander.   

And then, there had been Clarke.

The moment she walked into her tent, Lexa's felt her heart ignite again.  Like the woods of her birth catching fire it spread through her fast, nearly out of control, with blue eyes able to take away her breath.  

Until the moment on the mountain where her betrayal of the girl buried the flames in ice.  The hope she had extinguished forever, in Clarke's hurting blue eyes.

And now, Lexa found herself tied to the Blood Tree again, just as Chesa and Laurel had been.

But she was in chains.

Her crime too great for even the comfort of rope.

Alone there in the night, atop that hill chained to the blood tree, Lexa shifted and loudly moaned. A haunting sound, unetheral. As though part of her spirit was giving up. And maybe it was. The skulls of the 4’th and 5’th commander danced with their severed bones like wind chimes above her.

It made the camp at the base of the hill stop what they were doing. It made them look up toward the Blood Tree.

Those warriors still loyal to her, said nothing, they remained quiet and still, remembering who their commander had been and how strong she was at the top of that hill. Because they were doing as she asked, as she ordered as a final order; they were taking back the commander spirit. Then the night fell silent again, and those few who were not loyal, laughed.

And Lexa, all she could do, hearing their laughing drift up the hill toward her, was shift open her eyes toward their fires and weakly close them again.

Yes, she was able to sometimes remember parts of her past lives.  In these moments before death they became so much clearer.  So much more frequent.

She only hoped, in her next life, she would remember the beauty that fell from the stars during her rule as Lexa – a sky girl named Clarke.


	4. More than Meets the Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Indra arrive in Polis, but it is not what Clarke imagined that arrival would be. A new face startles her, because it isn't a new face. And everything isn't exactly how it seems...

It as a gray, cold morning. All she could hear was clop of their horses hooves in puddles of water from the rain the night before.  There was a mass of grounders here, lining the edges of this road, spilling over the countryside to each side of it as far as she could see. And all of them, all of them, looked up from what they were doing, and all of them, all of them fell utterly silent except the crackle of their fires. Some drifted close, and touched Clarke’s horse as she passed. It reminded Clarke of the grounder army that had waited at the foot of Mount Weather for their Heda’s order of, “kom wor!” Clarke shivered.. Mount weather.. the faces flashed past quickly and instead of grounder warriors there was suddenly an army of the Mount Weather dead. She blinked it away, quickly, like she had done so many times at the start. Why, now was it coming back to haunt her? The faces became a grounder army again. She looked ahead and saw giant wall rising in the distance.  Probably it was their destination.  Polis.  But from here it looked only soggy and looming and gray.  Without looking at her she asked Indra about the grounder army surrounding them, ‘what are they doing?” She ignored the whispers of, 'wanheda.'

“Waiting.”

Now Clarke did sharply turn her head, “for what?”

“For Lexa’s death.” Indra answered. She looked over the grounder army as they passed through it, “it is tradition.” Indra glanced at her to see how she would absorb that. Then, they stopped at the gate. Horns sounded from towers overhead. And as the gates cracked open, eerily from inside, the shouting began almost like a warning, ‘Wanheda! Wanheda!” It made Clarke sick. She shot a glance at Indra whom stayed looking ahead and didn’t move a single muscle in her face in acknowledgement.

Indra started her horse forward into Polis. Gathering herself together, so did Clarke. She looked ahead as well. Her body frozen by the sight of brick and concrete buildings that likely dated back from before the war but the tower in the center caught Clarke's attention and made her catch her breath and stare. There were people out, around shops and stalls and just quietly lingering in the streets, maybe thousands of them.  Thousands that suddenly fell quiet all at once, thousands that started staring and parting way from her as her horse passed through them.  Father's and mothers would yank back small children.  Then Clarke heard the sobbing start.  She turned her head to find it was coming from an old woman who stood nearby just at the corner of a building she'd just passed.  Then more sobbing started up, from other women, from older children, and even she noticed, a few of the men had a quiet tear through their warpaint.  It un-nerved Clarke.  It made her uncomfortable, "Indra," she asked, "what is this?" She hated herself for it sometimes, but ever since the invitation had passed Lexa’s lips there at the base of Mount Weather, she always wondered what it would be like if she ever came to Polis. She never once dreamed it might be like this.

“The generals must be here to free the Commander's Spirit.” Indra said point blank, she looked over at Clarke briefly with that ever stoic Indra look, “we are the last that need arrive.”

Free the Commander's Spirit?  Which translated into 'kill Lexa.'  A shock when through her body as she listened to the sobs.  These people saw her, recognized her, recognized what her appearance meant.  They were crying for Lexa.  Clarke's gut twisted in protest.  Her mouth opened seemingly on its own, also in protest, "but I am not a General."

“No,” Indra answered, “you are not. You are Wanheda, and you felled the mountain.” Indra kept her horse moving forward.

“I don’t understand.” Clarke stated, trying to keep her horse steady in the ever pressing, ever emotionally changing crowd. It was growing louder the further that Clarke progressed into the city.

“You will.” Indra answered.

“But—“ Clarke stopped when the sharp pain struck her in the side of the head. She reeled a little as her vision blurred for a second. Then she felt herself being struck again and again. As she tried to keep balance her eyes landed on the faces of several grounders whom had circled her horse. They were throwing rocks at her. She tried to clear them, but Indra grabbed her horses reins and shouted, “pleni!”

Clarke couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in the silence that followed. Because at the same time several of the citizens had been throwing rocks at her, a sudden hard wall of warrior bodies had moved to come between herself and her attackers. That was when she realized – Polis was locked in some kind of a civil war. Probably, she thought, with a glance at Indra as she remembered what Indra told her about Lexa having to be killed and why, the entire grounder population was. She bit her lip. She felt her throat lock. And despite everything else her heart actually began to ache, for Lexa, the girl who had betrayed her. The girl who’s every choice could be viewed as a mistake…

After a second Indra moved them forward again. She didn’t say a word to Clarke, just led her through the crowd.  She expected they would be going to the tower but instead they passed it by and kept through the dismal streets until they stopped at a flat, squat house. There, she dismounted and Clarke copied what she did. Several grounders came forward then and took their Horses. Indra walked up the stairs and entered the building. Clarke followed after her, up the stairs and through the building’s door.

She had never been inside an actual house until that moment. She had seen pictures of them. But she had never been in one. The plastered walls were discolored and peeling. The oaken floors were fading. The upholstered furnishings had faded as well. But she heard talking, and found there was a room immediately to her left. Slowly she turned and stepped inside of it.

Faces looked at her, a few she knew, Indra and Nyko.. and, “..Anya.” Clarke’s astonishment locked in her throat. That was when they all seemed to notice her and stopped talking. The silence, the cold stares, they might have killed her. Clarke took another step, “but you were dead.”

“Like your Lexa says,” the one who she called Anya set the drink she was holding down and stepped forward, “death is not the end. Besides,” she added, “I am Kaia. Anya was my twin sister.”

“Twin sister…” Clarke exhaled, the concept of siblings was almost foreign to her, having been raised on the Ark. That changed a little when she got to the ground because of Bellamy and Ocatavia. But twins? She understood the concept. But she had never met one. Her throat locked and so did her thoughts as she realised what Kaia had called her. She opened her mouth to speak, “she’s not mine. Lexa. She’s not mine.”

Kaia grunted, “right. But you are Wanheda?”

Clarke didn’t know what to say. So she settled on, “I’ve heard them say that. I do not agree.”

“You took down the mountain.”

“Yes.”

“How.”

Clarke felt nothing when she answered, “radiation. I burned them alive.”

“You know you were not the only one to pull that lever, Wanheda, or, at least,” Kaia smirked, “that’s what the rumors said.”

Bellamy. She thought. And now, her she did feel a painful tug at her soul. At her heart at her mind as she remembered the feel of his hand on top of hers. She might not be able to face him, but she was not going to let them blame him, “it was my choice.”

“And Lexa’s?” Kaia asked point blank. It bothered Clarke, that they were refusing to call Lexa Heda, as though she was already written off, as though she was already dead. Kaia took a step forward, “she sided with our enemy.”

As though Clarke didn't know that.  And with those words Clarke could suddenly feel tension boil into the room, despite how cold it was outside. But her thoughts from earlier came back to her, and they left her mouth before she could stop them, “everyone is allowed mistakes. She was doing what she thought was right.”

“She left you for dead.” Indra, to Clarke’s surprise, stated.

Clarke felt her jaw tighten and repeated herself, “she was doing what she thought was right.”

Kaia snorted softly. She looked over at Indra. She looked over at Nyko. Folding her arms Kaia asked, “do you know why you are here, Wanheda?”

Clarke resisted, no matter how hard it was to do so, a look at Indra. She kept her gaze right on Kaia’s face and had to wonder why it was that this person, whom until now, she never even knew existed, was suddenly seeming to call all the shots. But she didn’t ask questions. She only admitted the truth, “I have come for Lexa.”

“Right.” Kaia stated, folding her arms, “what have you come to do? Kill her? That is what everyone here will expect of you. You are Wanheda. You felled the mountain that none of our Commanders could take before. You will be the hand that releases the Commander's Spirit.”

“But!” she glared over at Indra, whom had not told her this. Had the woman played her all along. Clarke snapped her mouth shut, “no. I won’t do it.”

“Not even after she walked away from you? Not even when she left you for dead? Not even when she betrayed your people to side with her blood-sworn enemy. You, of all people, do not care of these sins?”

Clarke felt sickness in her throat. She felt the hurt and anger bubble up and threaten to make her vomit right on the floor. But she didn’t. She held it back. Instead she felt her eyes start to burn and her body start to shake as she remembered everything about mount weather, that she had fought and bled for it, that she had killed Finn for it, that she had fallen in love with that girl just to have her…. Clarke swallowed all of that down. “I used to want to kill her.” She said, “but not anymore. What was done inside that mountain, had to be done. What Lexa did that night,” she pulled her lips into her mouth for a second and chewed them hard before admitted, “it had to be done as well. I cannot stand here and blame her for doing the exact same thing I did, destroying one group of people to save a larger amount of people that she cares for.”

Indra and Kaia looked at each other. Kaia glanced over at Nyko. He came forward fast then and opened his kit revealing several vials inside she had never seen before, they were goldish and twisted and capped in carven wood. He also pulled Lexa’s own dagger from his belt and actually smiled at her as he started to open the vials, “then you may not be wanheda, after all.”


	5. Let it all Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment has come. Lexa must die at the Blood Tree to free the Heda's spirit. But does Clarke plunge the knife in, or stand in the way? Or both?
> 
> \--  
> Title of this chapter is inspired by "Hurricane" by Thirty Seconds to Mars, (without Kayne West, clean version).  
> First Verse - Clarke's pov.  
> Second Verse - Lexa.  
> Third Verse - Both.  
> \--

The rain beat down on the forest, on the Trikru land, on Polis, that night. It drenched the skins of a thousand or more warriors combined of 12 clans that massed at the forward base of a single, lonely sloping hill with a great tree on it. Some of the warriors shouted cries of war. Some beat on drums. Some sneered and laughed. Some of them, most of them, silently cried, tears hidden by the rain. The warriors may well have been a roaring sea. The hill with the single tree may have been a dark and forlorn island. The tree was the Blood Tree, they called it, one of the few trees that was there since before the end. And Clarke had been told it was the place Commanders were taken to die.

There had only been 2 other Commanders lost this way. She had been told. Both of them had lost their lives for a woman. And there, in that raging, loud sea of grounder warriors, her head covered in the same cloth that Lexa had given her the night the mountain destroyed Tondc, Clarke clutched tightly to the handle of Lexa’s dagger as though it were their only lifeline, both hers, and Lexa's.

And if Nyko was right perhaps it was.

She had to do this, she thought, looking up at the shadowy, sagging form of the girl she had every reason to hate but still might love, hanging limply from chains on that tree. It was not how she thought they would meet again, if they ever did. Lexa’s head was down, her knees were limp, her arms taunt held at the wrist also by chains, holding up what little weight was left of her body. And she was bloody. So bloody. Every inch of her skin was coated in sluicing and sticky clotted blood. There would be infection, by now, Clarke thought. She knew it rained here last night and she knew they were keeping Lexa out in the rain. In this weather it could mean hypothermia. After everything the girl had done to her, she should want this to happen. But she felt only revulsion for what was being done.

Grounder after grounder had gone up the hill and cut on Lexa, whom had cried out on the first slices but no longer made a sound. And Clarke swallowed down bile knowing that this night she was here to witness was only one of many nights that had already gone since Lexa surrendered her life to her people's hands. Again and again, people marched up the hill and cut, came down again. She ached for Lexa. She hated herself for once wanting to kill her. She ached for her to be let down and forgiven. She ached for people to see all the good Lexa had done, all the fathers and mothers now home whom would not have been if it was not for what she had done at the mountain that night, not only the Mountain Men's grounder prisoners, but also the many warriors, whom, if they fought, would not have made it home. All Lexa ever wanted was the best for her people. She'd give them anything to ensure that, and, believing her body housed the spirit of their Commander, now she was even giving up her life.

Clarke's gut twisted as though she was the one being cut. Her eyes swam. Tears tracked down her face. But no one would see them in the rain. She cried like the other warriors, even if they still considered her not one of them, even if she had fallen out of the sky.

Like Lexa, damn her, had seemed to drop out of the sky for her. Just for her. There had been a part of her reserved for Clarke, even if most of Lexa had belonged to everyone else. The part that belonged secretly to Clarke had been the part the Commander wasn't allowed to have, her heart. The last two warriors made their cuts, sad, solemn expressions on their faces, and slowly turned and came back down the hill. Like many others, they threw the knives they had used at the base of the hillside, a silent vow to never use them again.

The drums stopped suddenly as that last pair walked away. Horns blew and then all the noise except the crackle of fire and the fall of the rain faded away. No one moved. No one even dared to breathe as Indra stepped out of that crowd, torch in one hand, finely honed knife in the other. There were tiny gasps and shuffled feet as Indra started up that hill. Clarke had been told that Indra, as her most loyal General, would go first. And if Indra made it to Lexa there would be no stopping it then, she had been warned. Indra would have to cut out those beautiful forest green eyes. Then they would kill her.

It would not happen.

Before she could stop herself Clarke threw the cover off her head, “Nou!” she shouted, in a loud clear voice, advancing up the hill to where Indra stopped suddenly and turned. At her very first shout so had everyone else. She could feel their stares. She could hear them shuffling and whispering, ‘Wanheda’ still, she approached Indra calmly as possible, though her heart slammed into her ribcage and pounded blood loudly through her ears, “Ai laik klark gon the skai kru, wanheda,” she added, through it left a bitter taste in her mouth. But for her claim to Lexa’s blood it had to be done. She came to a stop where Indra was and motioned up to Lexa, “Leksa’s jus laik ain.”

And Indra’s eyes, like the dagger she held, grew cold as ice, “Leksa ste a natrona.” Indra started to advance back down the hillside toward Clarke, “she sided with the mountain men who drained the blood of our people for generations. It is our way. Our righteous kill. She cast us aside, taking that deal.”

“Indra,” Clarke shifted back to English too, and there in the rain spoke in a tone that was not loud, or even angry, but exacting so that it carried across the camp, “you and your people, you have cut her and cut her for days. I could have come sooner. I could have not allowed it. I could have stopped it at any time but I did not because I know that justice must be served for all of us, Trikru, Skaikru and the Kru of all 12 Clans. You see, Indra, and your people are not the only one she cast aside that night at the mountain. She left. You left. But I did not leave. I burned the mountain. I brought it to the ground. I did what needed done, something that generations of your armies could not do. That night, Indra, she betrayed me first. She knew it, I knew it and you knew it. You knew she betrayed us yet it took your people weeks to decide that she had betrayed you too.” She looked around at the camp for emphasis, including them all. Then she focused her gaze back on Indra, “and if your blood must answer blood, if that is how your justice is done? Tell me,” Clarke dropped her voice to a low whisper as she glanced up the hillside toward Lexa, “whose is the righteous kill?”

Indra tried to speak, “I brought you here to make your mark, to take your blood from her body, that—“

“—will not suffice," Clarke interrupted, "it won’t pay the debt we are owed. So if you take what is not yours to have,” she pointed up the hill toward Lexa without so much as looking at her, “there would be retribution. More blood to pay. And none of us here want that.”

And there it was, the eye of the storm, the drop of the pin. It seemed all of Earth was holding its breath and waiting on the fall of the proverbial other shoe.

Indra stared at Clarke. Clarke stared back. After what seemed like forever, Indra spared a glance up the hill and then looked at Clarke, “it is not a blood-right of skaikru.”

"No, it isn't." Clarke agreed, "it is reserved for your people, and those titled by your people.

Fisa," she began, "General," she nodded at Indra and the others, "Heda," she glanced toward Lexa's silent form. Then she turned back toward Indra and implied, "Wanheda?"

"You are twisting our laws."

"Tell me, Wanheda is a grounder title? Is it not? Because my people sure as hell didn't come up with it."

Murmurs started up, they spread around. Clarke felt her heart beating faster as she stood that. And Indra, at last, ground her teeth together in fury and nodded her head, "yes."

"And since I have a title given to me by your people, it is also my right to her blood." Clarke responded. She looked Indra up and down, "or will you try and stop me?"

Backed into a corner, Indra let out her trademark growl, "no."

"Good," Clarke answered, she turned then and started up the hill toward Lexa, one step, two..

  
Indra called after her, "wait! First, I get her eyes."

Clarke paused, stood still for a second as if to consider it and then turned and went back down to where Indra was at. Indra shifted and moved a hand to her knife at her waist. Clarke just grunted, and looked at Indra as though the threat meant nothing and said, "no. I want my face to be the last thing she sees before she dies. Just as I thought hers would be that night. I want my exact revenge, Indra. By your own system of justice, you can't stop me."

Indra stared at her, again. But Clarke held her ground, again. Seconds ticked past, again. She could actually hear the tick of her father's watch. And finally, once again, Indra stepped back, “Wanheda.” She acknowledged, and motioned for Clarke to approach Lexa.

Slowly, Clarke turned, and, clutching Lexa’s dagger in her hand, walked up to the Blood Tree. A few inches from Lexa’s limp and lacerated body, she stopped, “Lexa?” she breathed. But she got no reaction. Clarke’s heart started beating faster. Her mouth opened a little to let the sudden fear burning inside her chest out. Was Lexa already dead? Her head hung downward, once beautiful brown curls and braids tangled and wet and bloody. Swallowing hard, Clarke stepped in closer. She reached for Lexa’s taunt shoulder but stopped herself at the last minute from the sight of all the cuts there. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Lexa?”

A second ticked past. Two.

And to Clarke’s utter surprise, Lexa slowly lifted her head and opened her beautiful green eyes, “C ..Clarke?” she asked.

And Clarke might have gone limp with relief, and shock, those beautiful eyes burned as fierce as the Commander ever had, even if everything else was taken, everything Lexa was still burned in those eyes. Clarke saw the moment of recognition, she saw Lexa try to gather strength to pull herself up in the chains, and somehow, she managed, just barely and asked, “have you come to kill me, Clarke?”

Clarke nodded. She made her throat work. She whispered, “yes.”

Clarke lifted Lexa’s own dagger in her hand and pulled back. She saw Lexa’s eyes widen again as she recognized her own weapon. And then Clarke felt herself swinging it downward, she felt the crack of bone as it entered Lexa’s upper chest near her right shoulder. Clarke felt blood spill out, a slicing stain, draining down her hand and wrist, warm and wet over Lexa's skin. More grounder blood. Maybe the most precious grounder blood. Carefully Clarke pulled the knife out again. Lexa’s eyes were wide, in hurt and surprise and also in surprised terror as she looked at her own spilling blood and then at Clarke’s face. Clarke swallowed and tried to assure her quickly, “you’re okay, Lexa,” she said, she wanted to rush forward, to embrace her and assure her but she was not able to do anything but stand there watch the girl’s panic at what she believed was death. Clarke heard herself promising the same words she had promised to Finn, “you’re going to be okay….” death is not the end, she wanted to say something Lexa understood, but it would be too much. It would be too much... so Clarke bit her lip and stared into Lexa's eyes and watched Lexa stare back at her - and waited.

Then Lexa’s beautiful eyes closed. She inhaled, or tried to, one or two more times, and stilled.

So did the camp.

So did the very rain right at that moment, as though it had been waiting, as though it too noticed that whom many people had once thought of as a Goddess, had just died.

Clarke could only stare at the limp chained form. Blood dripped down Lexa’s body, from her limbs and hair, from her fingertips, still warm. Clarke felt for a second like Lexa wasn’t the only one not breathing.

And then Indra’s shout broke the night, “check her!”

Five Fisas ran up the hill, all at the same time. One was Nyko. Clarke stepped back just a step, then two steps, as the healers all came in, unwrapped the chains and got Lexa’s small form down from the Blood Tree. She watched as they prodded at Lexa’s wounds, at her chest, she watched as they felt for a pulse and checked for breathing or a beating heart. It went on for what seemed like hours when it was only maybe just a minute and Clarke stood there frozen and soaked in rain and in blood wanting nothing more than to be sick..

“She’s dead!” One of the healers, not Nyko, announced loud and clear, rising from where Lexa’s form lay on the ground, “our Heda is freed!!”

A cheer went up. It was followed with chanting, “Heda, Heda…” but it was not the chanting that they used to worship Lexa with, it was a searching, seeking sound, as if they thought it would call their new Commander out. Without even meaning to, Clarke felt herself scanning the crowd, to see if there would be any takers of Lexa’s crown… no one moved. Not at first. But while the calls went on Nyko and the other healers waved a group of warriors forward from the bottom of the hill. They carried great swathes of cord and brown cloth. And as they grew close Clarke’s heart skipped back to life. One of those warriors, was Octavia.

Octavia caught her eye in passing, and then Octavia and the others were grabbing at Lexa’s limp and bloody arms and legs. She watched they started to strip Lexa. She watched as Indra came forward with several other generals. She watched as Indra knelt and pulled back Lexa’s head by the hair and saw one of the Generals she did not know yet raise his sword to sever Lexa’s head from her neck..

“No!” Clarke shouted, storming forward with a hand forward in a stopping motion. The movement was so fast and the order so loud that everyone stopped where they were. Indra did not rise but looked up at Clarke in disdain, “you had your kill, Wanheda.” She seemed to slur the title just a little much. Then she looked at Lexa’s fallen form and looked up into the branches of the blood tree, “her head will hang with the others. Her bones will rattle in the wind to warn other Commanders to watch their step…”

“Indra.” Clarke said, quietly, more than she had ever since the start of this, “when Finn killed 18 in your village, you demanded his body…” she was aware that Octavia had, in this distraction, started unfurling rolls and rolls of the brown cloth until it was strewn in heaps all over the ground. She was aware of Octavia and the others wrapping Lexa’s body up. Clarke didn’t look down. She wanted the attention of everyone present to stay on her and not Octavia as she stated, “she left my people to die that night. She knew they would. It was good as Finn murdering your people. So, according to your own traditions,” Clarke exhaled, “I demand hers.”

Silence followed, not for the first time that terrible night. The rain started falling down again in a light spray. Probably it rained more, this close to the ocean, Clarke heard herself mundanely thinking. Then she saw Kaia and the other General pull Indra close along with several others Clarke did not know the names of. Kaia shook her head, “no.” she said. Indra scowled. It was the General she did not know that reminded, “she took the mountain.”

Time, like the lack of noise around the camp, also might have stopped. She was sure beads of water were floating weightless and still on the air when Indra finally nodded. When the words left her mouth, “take it then,” Indra growled, she shoved Lexa's limp body away with her boot, "this shell means nothing to us now." Then the general simply turned away, "we must move forward, now!" Indra shouted. She motioned her arms wide for everyone to look at her as she walked away from Clarke and down the hillside shouting, "the dead are gone! The living are hungry! Let us focus on finding our Heda!" Everyone except Clarke and Octavia started to follow Indra down the hill.

The crowd roared. They cheered, “Heda, Heda, Heda.” They started to look around at each other in that camp.

They did not see Clarke and Octavia, vanishing into the darkness down the far side of that hill, grasping hard onto the brown wrap that held Lexa’s body, as they dragged it quickly away


	6. I Won't Let You Fall Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Octavia's help, Clarke gets Lexa to safety. But she is terrified that she killed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not always be able to update this often, but I could today. Thank you all for your support, and that was just day one? I am thinking I should have posted here sooner now.. 
> 
> Chapter Title inspired by "Fallen Angel" by Three Days Grace

“Octavia! Octavia, hurry!” Clarke swung up onto her horse. She knew they were moving fast as they could but it just didn’t seem fast enough. Her breath was already short. Through the trees they could still see the glow of fire around the hill where the outline of the Blood Tree stood. On the wind she could still hear the chanting. It was only a matter of time before someone started to question what she had just done. It was only a matter of time until the Grounders realized that what they probably thought to be their most precious ‘belonging’ had been stolen from them when, if there really was something behind this whole reincarnation thing, their new Commander somehow didn’t just show up. Clarke glanced back, “Octav—“

But Octavia was on the ground near her horse, shoving and pushing the rough brown cloth wrapping holding Lexa up to Clarke. Clarke grabbed it and pulled. For such a powerful person, Lexa was physically slight. But all the same it was still awkward to haul her ‘dead weight’ up onto the horse. Clarke panicked when her precious bundle started slipping. She exhaled in relief when Lexa was caught by Octavia and pushed up toward her again. Clarke got Lexa in front of her that time, sideways, cradling her like a baby. As she did she realized the cloth was cold and wet in patches and would do nothing to keep her warm like Clarke had hoped. Quickly she loosened ties and wrap just enough so that she could see the grounder Commander’s silent, slack face leant against her body. Clarke swallowed thickly. Was she even alive?

_Have you come to kill me, Clarke?_

“Clarke? Clarke!” Octavia’s voice pushed into her thoughts and she tore her eyes from Lexa’s face to look at Octavia.

“She’s okay.” Octavia said quickly.

“I killed her.” Clarke breathed. She swallowed tightly. Every inch of skin on her body started to physically vibrate with emotional pain, “Octavia, I killed.. killed—“ she could hardly breathe.

“You didn’t.” Octavia said quickly, “it’s the poison Nyko put on the blade, which is here.” Octavia handed Lexa’s sheathed dagger up, “I don’t know how but it makes people think you’re dead. Just give her the cure. Have her drink it. It’s at the mausoleum with some furs and food. Listen to me, Clarke. The cure will take some time to work. And here.” Octavia pushed Lincoln’s sketchbook up into her already full hands, “go west, you will come to a waterfall. Then go north to the old graveyard. The mausoleum is under the hillside. It’s one of Lincoln’s places. He drew it on the last page of the book. You will be safe and can hide in there. Clarke,” Octavia took the horse by the bridle and turned its face. The motion made Clarke focus on her as well, “the Trikru use the trees. You are going to have to stay underground and keep hidden. Lincoln will come to you in another day. Maybe two. But soon as he can.”

Clarke was swallowing. Her body was still trembling though. It was still hard to breathe but she gripped onto what Octavia was saying, Lexa wasn’t dead. That was all she had to go on and she trusted Octavia. Octavia was here. It struck Clarke, after all that had happened, “why are you helping me?” she choked out, clutching Lexa tighter, “us?”

But Octavia avoided the question, “go, Clarke!” She shouted instead as she slapped the Horse on the rump, “go!”

The Horse bolted. She held on tight, onto both Lexa and the reigns as it dashed into the cover of the cold forest night. As it did, the rain started again. Lightening and thunder crashed in the forest as though somewhere a God might have thought Clarke had stolen the daughter of his trees. Clarke could barely see where she was going through the mix of how fast the horse was moving, the closeness of the trees and the burning in her eyes. The burning in her eyes was from the rain, she told herself. But she knew it was a lie. She also knew had to get away from Polis before anyone there could challenge her very much so staged ‘blood right.’ And Indra was good in helping her secure it. Indra was very good at playing along. Standing there Clarke had to remind herself several times the woman was actually on her side and pulling an act as much as she was. Because if something happened and they were found out Indra _could not_ be implicated as taking part in this. With Lexa gone, the Grounders needed Indra too much. If she lived, Lexa was going to need Indra too much. Most of those people back there loved Lexa than did not, and, in the end, that was what Clarke would be counting on. She swallowed. She held even tighter to Lexa. She glanced quickly down at her between looks up ahead through the forest. Lexa was so still, so silent. How could she not be dead? Octavia said she wasn’t. Octavia promised she was alive. Finally, filled to overflowing, the hot tears rolled back ripped from the force of the wind out of the corners of Clarke’s eyes, tracing back over her temples and the sides of her face. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to _end_ like this. They were supposed to take down that mountain _together_. They were supposed to live together in Peace on Earth. They were not supposed to be stealing through the forest on a stormy black night on the back of a Horse like this.

But if anything she had long already learned that Earth had a good way of making mockery of all her hopes and dreams and she feared that Earth, in all its tumultuous history, even given a second chance still might never know peace.

She heard the water before she saw it, great tumbling walls of water that the cold could not freeze rolling off cliffs high above the trees. She pulled the reins the horse protested and reared just a little from the sudden stop. There could be caves behind those falls. But if Grounders came they would check them. She might be Wanheda but she was also _still_ a sky girl that they might think would make a mistake to hide in a place so easy to find as that. She realized that was why Octavia had sent her on to the cemetery. That hit her finally with a bit of shock as she just realized they would be hiding in a cemetery?? Creepy, but she was desperate. They all were.  And she knew it was not a place anyone would think to look for someone living. She tried not to give it another thought and turned the horse northward and urged it back into an unfettered run.

It didn’t take long for her to find the old, half-buried-by-a-near-century-of-earth, clearing of headstones among the trees. She slowed on the sight of them rising in front of a small, low grassy hill. Shrubs and trees that might have once been manicured grew wild. Broken benches and angel statues were half buried in the dirt and underbrush and scattered around. Clarke stopped the horse. This was how some people of Earth used to lay their dead to rest. It was what they had done to the first of the hundred that died. She didn’t know how it compared worse or better, to the way bodies were ..put to rest.. on the Ark.

Shifting Lexa Clarke slipped out of the saddle. Keeping a hold on her Clarke slipped to the soft, wet forest floor and quickly reached into her pocket, took out and flipped open Lincoln’s sketchbook to the back page. Rain wet the paper. Her heart racing with adrenaline she compared the drawing to the clearing.

This was it. She put the book away. Balancing Lexa carefully she pulled her down from the saddle and lowered her onto her forest floor. She checked but nothing else was in the saddle. Then she did like Octavia, and slapped it hard on its rump, “haa!” she yelled at it, and sent it running away from them further north to lessen their chances of being found by having a horse tied outside. She didn’t have time to watch it vanish into the rain and dark. She picked up Lexa. The rain was making the wrapping sloppy and hard to hold. She started toward the hillside but the mud was making it hard to walk. But the drawing had shown there was door behind the tangled brush and shrub.

As far as she knew Lexa’s face was the only thing not cut. She did not know why. But she doubted neither by accident nor a vanity thing.  Refusing to let the branches finish the job Clarke pulled the cover back into place to protect it. Then she pushed through the wet shrubbery. She reached out with one hand to block the brush from tearing at her own eyes. Her hand touched the cold, wet metal of an old door. She stepped the last step through the branches. She pushed at the door with her shoulder, but stopped when she realized it was jostling Lexa. She kicked it at it. She started to despair. Then she saw the bar shaped handle. She turned it. She pushed inward. To her surprise it gave easy opening with a squeal of rusted hinges.

Dark, chipped concrete stars vanished downward. Soft light glowed at the end. Clarke held Lexa tighter and nearly ran down the stairs, careful not to drop her. She suddenly didn’t care about the cemetery part. She burst into a small stone room. She expected crypts or stone coffins like in pictures but there were none. The room was swept clean. There was a table with a candle on it that was where the light was coming from, a chair tucked in by the table, a bag in the chair, and a thick pile of soft furs in the corner of the floor.

Clarke stumbled toward the furs, pushing some of them back with her foot she laid Lexa gently down on the thick pile the rest of them made. She had to get her warm. If she really was still alive she had to warm her up and fast. Or she wouldn't have a chance. With shaking hands frozen from rain and cold she quickly undid the cords and pulled away the wet wrap and then the wet remains of scraps that had been Lexa’s only covering. Clarke felt instantly sick when the soft glow of candlelight illuminated what might have been thousands of raw, angry gaping cuts all over Lexa’s body, several in layers criss-crossed over the top of each other. Smaller cuts, as though they'd been trying to make sure there was enough of her to go around.  They covered her arms, her hands and even her fingers.  They covered her legs, her feet and even her toes. They sliced like lace over the insides of her thighs.  They covered her stomach, her hips and even her breasts.  The small patches of skin left between the cuts was inflamed and angry and in a handful places small chunks of flesh had even come loose. Blood dried and clung in small beads in the gaps of skin as it clotted.  Clarke felt herself literally gag. 

They were flaying her.  The cutting had been so much it reduced her skin to a flayed state.

She gagged even harder, choking, when she saw the deep puncture she had made. Blood clotted around it, forming a jelly like substance. Clarke started sobbing then, brokenly, quickly, quietly, ghosting her hands quickly over the cuts. They had to wait. They had to wait. She could not throw up. First she had to warm up Lexa. Clarke grabbed quickly at the rest of the furs and through her sobs, frantically started piling the rest of them quickly on. They were layered thick when she ran out of them and Clarke scrambled for the bag on the table. She ripped it open. There was cloth, ointment, candles and food. She dug frantically in the candle light, looking back at Lexa every two seconds. Octavia had said it would be in here.

Then she found the vial. 'To restart her heart,' the parchment rolled around it said.  Octavia's writing.

Her hand closed on it. She half ran, half scrambled on her knees back to Lexa, tipped her head back gently and opened her mouth. Clarke poured the whole contents of the vial into Lexa’s mouth. She tossed the vial away. She sat back on her knees. She cradled Lexa’s head. Clark waited, stroking Lexa’s bloody hair, her pale face, the soft lids of her closed eyes. She looked so quiet and peaceful, like a sleeping angel, like the broken ones outside…

Outside. The door was still open. Water was dripping off the stairs. Stroking Lexa’s forehead again Clarke gently laid her down in the furs. She went up and closed the door, latching it tight and turning something that looked like a lock. She came back down the stairs and knelt at Lexa’s side. Clarke leaned in. She put her head over Lexa’s chest in hope. But her heart still seemed silent. She wasn’t breathing yet. It wasn’t working. She checked again. Nothing. Leaning in close she got to her hands and knees to get close to her but not touch her cuts, “please Lexa. You have to wake up…” no answer.

Clarke pressed her hand to her mouth. She’d killed her. She tried to save her and she’d killed her. She scrambled to her feet. Swallowing hard, gulping down air like she forgot how to breathe. Octavia said the cure took time. Hadn’t she? Hadn’t she said that? Or was Clarke only making it up so she had something to believe? She sniffed loudly, trying to calm her breathing. But it wasn’t working either. She tugged off her own wet clothes. She pulled back the furs and crawled into the space next to Lexa and wrapped her arms gently around her chilly, flayed flesh and pulled her close until the Commander’s head was on her shoulder.

Clarke pulled the fur covers over them both.


	7. The Greatest is Love

_I lost someone special to me too…_

Clarke shifted in her sleep under the furs.

_Don’t worry. My spirit will choose much more wisely than that._

She rolled onto her back in the dark.

_Death is not the end…_

She shifted onto her side, her arms automatically reaching for the warm body next to hers and curling into it.

_I do care, Clarke…_

Warm breath brushed against her neck.

Lexa.

Clarke’s eyes snapped open. Her hand traced a warm arm wrapped over her body. The flesh of the arm felt chopped to pieces. Still, her own heart started to beat a hopeful, erratic thump. The candle was out. But there was no confusion or forgetting where she was. Warm legs tangled with hers. She felt the soft breath again.

Clarke pushed up faster than she probably should have, forgetting to breathe herself. With her pulse racing she leaned in and lowered her head onto Lexa’s chest. The steady thump of Lexa’s heart met her ears. Hearing it, she felt the limbo of dread slip away to hope.

Lexa, was alive.

Kissing her proud forehead Clarke scrambled up from the furs; careful to spread them back over Lexa before going to the table. The air was frozen. The loss of warmth unbearable. But Clarke dug through the bag she knew she’d left there until she found what she was looking for and lit the candle again. The light fluttered to life like the heart in Lexa’s chest. The room went from pitch back to pale golden. Clarke, stark naked, grabbed the bag from the table and went back to Lexa. She knelt on the floor to be sure she wasn't imagining things. She wasn't. The furs rose and fell softly with Lexa’s breath. A little color had also returned to Lexa’s skin.

Clarke reached for her clothes, but they were still wet. She dug through the bag again found a large shirt and pulled it on. It was probably Lincoln’s, she realized, but she didn’t care. She pulled out the jar of ointment and set it on the floor. Clarke looked around. She would need hot water. She thought a minute about going outside to make a fire. But she knew, if the Grounders were looking for them, she was still too close to Polis to go out. So Clarke got up and scanned the room she was in for anything other than the chair and table where she had laid Lincoln’s book and Lexa’s knife. There were jugs of water and boxes against a wall, squat, rectangular boxes that were falling apart and made of warped, dry wood. Clarke went to them and started to break them apart. As she did she looked around again. The room was stone. The door up the stairs was locked but not airtight. If she was careful, she could light a small enough fire for hot water in here. That was when she saw the wide, iron tray lent up against the wall behind the boxes. She pulled it out and noticed the surface was stained with soot. Someone, probably Lincoln, had used it before to build a fire on. Clarke hauled it out and set it on the floor. She went to Lincoln’s book and glanced over at Lexa, “sorry Lincoln,” Clarke whispered, tearing several of the blank pages out. She wadded them into balls and put them on the tray. Then she stacked only enough bits of broken wood on it and started a small fire. Clarke went to the bag and grabbed one of the metal bowls that were in it and set it on the infant flames. She grabbed one of the jugs and poured water into the bowl.

While she waited for it to boil she went to the bag and pulled out the cloth. She took Lexa’s knife from the table but thought better of it and put it back. Lexa had open cuts. If the blade was still poisoned… Clark started tearing strips of the cloth with her hands instead. The water was ready. Taking it from the fire she stamped the fire out fast before going back to where Lexa was. Clarke knelt near her and placed the water down on the floor. She soaked some of the cloth in it, then gently pulled back the layers of fur covering Lexa.

They had been brutal. Clarke stared at the damage, at the torn and ripped inflamed flesh. Her tattoos were indistinguishable. Nearly every inch would scar. Clarke got to her knees and carefully started inspecting the cuts. The older ones were deeper. The newer and greater number of them were more shallow. Probably because they were starting to run out of room to cut her. But probably because they were mostly shallow cuts, it saved her life. Clarke couldn’t understand why Lexa hadn’t bled out. Then, on closer inspection she saw some of the cuts were stuffed with poultice. Her mouth drew together in a thin line as she realized her suspicions from the night before were confirmed. The Grounders had been both killing Lexa and keeping her alive. Clarke started washing then. She scrubbed at the cuts hard to be sure they were clean. She kept looking up at Lexa as she did knowing it would be painful. But if Lexa felt anything, Clarke couldn’t tell. From time to time she would stop to check that Lexa was still breathing. From time to time, she would stop to smear ointment into the washed out wounds. Then she would continue scrubbing. Then she had come to the hole she put in the Commander’s chest. She knew the puncture in itself would not be fatal. It was the same place she had shot Lincoln when he was held hostage by the spotter at Tondc.

_Have you come to kill me, Clarke?_

She was back there again, on that hillside at the Blood Tree. The question had been so calm from Lexa’s chapped lips, it even sounded like she expected and –wanted- her to be the one to do it. Clarke shook the image from her head. She found a clean rag and washed the puncture. It was deeper than the rest so it took longer to clean. She smeared it with ointment and wrapped it with strips of cloth. Clarke sat back then, checked her handiwork, and then, carefully, reached in on a guess only because she hadn’t yet seen Lexa’s back, and rolled her onto her stomach.

With a sick feeling she realized she was right. Because while the entire back of her body looked like her front. It was worse. They had lashed her. Clarke wet her dry lips and very carefully ran the tip of her finger along the terrible marks in Lexa's back. Her eyes burned again, but not out of fear and desperation like the night before. Out of anger and disgust, tears threatened as she traced the angry lines. She moved Lexa’s hair gently and found more. Clarke swallowed tightly; unable even to count how many times Lexa had been struck. The marks were countless. How in the world could anyone do this to someone? The tears finally slipped loose and she brushed them back. Crying. She seemed to be doing alot of it since finding Lexa on that damned tree. She had cried yes, since hitting the ground. But second to murdering hundreds of people it seemed like the thing she did the most of in the time before she left camp Jaha. But after leaving the camp tears had become all but foreign. Now, here, with Lexa so badly injured, it seemed she couldn’t stop them from spilling out...

Candlelight flickered on Lexa. Clarke grabbed the rags, dipped them in the water that was now luke-warm, and started scrubbing the wounds on Lexa’s back. Lexa had left her. She’d left her to die. God, she was angry at Lexa. Angry, and so …fearfully in love with her at the same time. How could you be angry at someone yet ache for them to be close? She sniffed back all the tears and wrung out the rags and started washing the torn skin from the lashes first and rubbing ointment into them. It was therapeutic. She felt herself growing calm again. She didn’t trust Lexa. She knew that. But they both did what they had to do. Clarke was firm in her belief in that. Lexa's love -weakness as she put it- shone in her eyes every time she looked at her. Clarke would never have admitted it even to herself but looking back she had known for some time that Lexa wanted her.

 _You care about him?_   There was a bit more worry in Lexa’s voice when she said that then there should have been, borderline jealousy. There were other times too, glances over the war-table. Over dinners. Over campfires. The time when Quint had tried to kill her. There were so many other times where it was being said and shown. Probably, nearly the whole time, Lexa was trying to tell her without actually saying it. The truth was though, nearly from the start, Clarke had felt it too. She hadn’t realized she could be attracted to women, until Lexa. She also thought that she was imagining what she was seeing in those green eyes.

In the end it was Lexa whom confessed first, _not everyone, not you._

Lexa’s eyes had been so bare and beautiful and fearful when she admitted that. As though she was waiting for what Clarke would do next and fearing it at the same time. As though Clarke would run. As though they would never be the same again. As though Clarke would break her, ruin her. Enraged by what Lexa had ordered done to Octavia, Clarke didn’t recognize the tumult in Lexa’s eyes until after she had stormed out of her tent. She looked back after, shaken by what she learned. But Lexa was being uncooperative, and the moment was gone.

It came back when Lexa kissed her. It had been building in the air, the shift of their eyes when caught looking at each others lips came to a point where Clarke finally had to look a way or give up on breathing altogether. Lexa had moved in quickly as though she knew she was taking a risk but made the choice to do it anyway. Clarke could still feel the curl of her hand around her neck as she pressed her surprisingly so soft and surprisingly trembling lips to hers. Lexa had kissed her with such gentleness that it was a startling contrast to her nature. She kissed her as though she was expecting rejection at any moment but yet had kissed her anyway because she could no longer hold back. It was toxic, it was sweet, it was everything Clarke expected in a kiss but never felt until that moment when she kissed Lexa back. But how could she fall for the woman whom ordered Finn's death so soon after he was gone? But she was falling anyway. And they both knew that she was.

_You should come with me to Polis..._

They could not have guessed what happened next.

She never once thought Lexa had intended to hurt her; not even that night up there on that mountain-top. And now, here Lexa was, literally stripped to the bone in places, for the decision she'd made that night.

It was wrong.

And they would not kill her for it.

Wanheda -if she must she would use that terrible title to protect Lexa- would not allow it. Gently and carefully and one at a time Clarke finished cleaning and rubbing ointment into Lexa's wounds. Just as carefully when that was done she picked up the strips of cloth and slowly started winding them around Lexa's body, around her arms and legs and torso, lifting her carefully as she did. When she was done at last a glance at her watch told her it had been hours since she started this. She checked the bandages. She pushed Lexa's hair out of her face and felt it crunch with dried blood. In the morning, she would wash it out. For now, she pulled the furs over Lexa again. Because Leksa kom trikru, Heda of the 12 Clans, wasn't quite out of the woods. Clarke smiled despite herself because of the double meaning in this case of that phrase. Because while one of the meanings was not so great, because it was Lexa, maybe in this case the second meaning was.

Clarke got up and took the bag back to the table. There she dug through it looking for food because they were both going to need to eat soon somehow. And Clarke had to keep her strength up - for both of them


	8. Right Where it Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lexa wakes up for the first time..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics are memories and/or stuff her head is making up. 
> 
> Normal text is current tense/stuff she thinks is current. 
> 
> In this chapter these two tenses ^ switch back and forth alot.

_"Mama!"_

_"Amara, stay here!"_

_"Where are you going!?_

_"To find your sister and father! Do not come out! Stay here!"_

_Her mother looked down at her through the door of the hatch silhouetting the great silver shapes streaking through the morning sky above her. The hatch door slammed shut. The vibrating noise it made got louder and louder seemed to go on and on and on. It sounded like bombs. She could feel her eight-year-old hands clutching her ears because the noise was so loud as she crouched alone in the dark of that bunker._

The bombs were dropping and dropping over her. She could hear them in the dark..

_"Your predecessor told me she heard it sometimes, especially with loud noises in dark places. So did the Commander before her. It happens sometimes." Anya was walking with her by the river. She looked at Lexa sharply. "Maybe once it happened but it isn't real now," Anya said, "remember that. It isn’t real."_

But sometimes she could still feel Amara’s fear.  Times like now.

Lexa felt like every inch of her skin was on fire, like she’d been dropped in a bath of acid that was dissolving her flesh..

_“That’s it then.” She met the eyes of her city. “ In the morning, I will go to the tree myself. Now leave me be.”_

_Lexa walked back to her home for the last time that night. The streets were empty.  It felt like a wake. She stood at her window looking over her city. Her beautiful Polis, fallen. You couldn’t tell it by looking outside yet. But inside Polis was a fallen thing like she was.  Maybe the next Commander could save it, when her spirit made the journey on._

_“Leksa?” Indra’s voice was behind her, still controlled, like it always was._

_“Nomontu?” She asked back. She took a drink from her cup. Her heart thundered. But she didn’t turn._

_“Yu na wan op.”_

_“Den ai na wan op.” Lexa turned, “but maybe that’s what my people need? A Heda who is not a traitor?”_

_“It is wrong.”_

_Lexa asked, “Can you say I made the right choice at the mountain?  Or do you think what I chose was wrong?” Indra had no answer. Lexa offered her a sad smile and then shifted her face into its impassive mask even with her warpaint gone, warpaint she’d never wear again. “You will find your Heda, Indra, that will be your duty now.  That and to take care of my people."_

In pain Lexa never felt before in this life and couldn’t remember in any other, she screamed and screamed and screamed. But her screams were trapped in her head because the pain stripping her skin off was so blinding she could not make herself open her mouth.

The jus tri.  It quickly flashed through her head.

_Costia was standing in the center of Polis square one day when Lexa had come back from a victory against the Azgeda over a border town they had sacked. Lexa was bloody, bruised and sore. She could feel frozen mud caked onto her body. She slipped down from her horse anyway. Her warriors, and the citizens of Polis, both parted as her girl came running at her. She could still feel Costia’s body crash into hers as she flung herself into her arms. She could still feel the hot kiss they shared as their mouths met. She could still hear her people cheering them on._

She remembered loving Costia dearly. Dear Gods, she loved that girl. But she wasn’t the girl she was screaming for in pain in her head…

_"A missile? You’re sure?"_

_"Yes. We have to start--"_

_The noise from the bombs drowned out whatever else Clarke was saying about the missile. Lexa grabbed Clarke by the hand and shoved her under the table, “death is not the end..” she whispered, gently tangling her fingers into Clarke’s gold hair she pressed their lips together, getting to kiss her at last as the world died outside.  It was heaven._

Out-loud at last, Lexa screamed for the girl she loved in every life in just one name, "Clarke!"

“Lexa!  Lexa, wake up!” _Clarke was in front of her at the jus tri. She knew she’d come. She didn’t deserve to see her again but she pulled herself up in the chains anyway._ The chains faded to be replaced by soft cloth wrapping her arms. The jus tri faded. Rock walls took its place, thick warm furs and soft golden light. Matted yellow hair fell into her face and she was looking up into Clarke’s teary but beautiful azure blue eyes, “Clarke?” she croaked out, she gasped in pain. Clarke smiled a watery smile and nodded, "its me, Lexa." But there was no waking up from the jus tri in the same body. And suddenly she knew what Clarke had done, “Clarke why….”

“Shh.. shh, Lexa.” Clarke ran a soothing hand down the side of her face to calm her, “its okay.”

Lexa couldn’t move her body. It was both wrapped in cloth and felt set on fire, “why?” her throat was dry and her voice raspy, “why Clarke?” did she have _any_ idea of what she had done?

Clarke managed a sad watery smile and the soft fingers kept up a soothing motion on her face as she whispered, “Because I needed your spirit to stay right where it was.”

Lexa felt her heart stutter at the soft unexpected words. It was beautiful. But impossible. “Oh Klark…” she lifted her hand to try and touch her face but the little motion was too much and her body shook and protested against her in stinging waves of pain. She only wanted to touch the girl.. she only wanted to… still reaching a hand to try despite the pain, Lexa passed out, “Klark…”


	9. Never Serene

It was quiet. In the glow of the candlelight Clarke watched Lexa, sleeping peacefully on her side facing her, beside her, under the soft furs. Lexa’s lips were slightly parted. Her torn hands were curled around Clarke’s between them. A faint smile pulled at Clarke’s mouth. She untangled one of her hands from Lexa’s, brought her flayed fingers up to her mouth and gently touched her lips to them.

The sudden banging on the metal door made Clarke jump; dropping Lexa’s hand she pushed up to her elbow. She narrowed her eyes the direction the noise, glanced down at Lexa and quietly shifted away from her warmth. Standing Clarke spread the furs all the way over the Commander, hiding her from sight. She went to the table, grabbed Lexa’s knife, unsheathed it and started slowly up the stairs. Halfway up the stairs banging came again along with a familiar voice, “Clarke, its me!”

Lincoln.

Clarke was up the rest of the stairs in a heartbeat. Not caring that she was wearing nothing but what was probably one of his old shirts she turned the lock and pulled open the metal door. Bright light poured in from outside, she squinted, not used to it. Lincoln looked like a huge shadow in the door because the light behind him was so blinding. She flung one arm around his neck, “Lincoln..” she hugged him tightly, and dropped a light kiss to his neck in joy at seeing him, careful to keep Lexa’s knife away from him as not to accidentally poison him with it. He seemed a little surprised but after a second he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back. They pulled apart at the same time and that was the first time that Clarke noticed the large leather bag near his feet. He picked it up and slung the strap over his shoulder, “Heda?” he asked, his voice filled with quiet resonance that said he was nervous to know.

His use of her title made something warm in Clarke’s heart, “she’s alive.” Clarke then moved out of the way for him. Lincoln moved past her and she followed him down the stairs and into the little room at the bottom. He stopped in the middle of the room and scanned it. Quickly Clarke went to where the furs covered Lexa and gently pulled them back. Lincoln dropped his bag and came close. He knelt quietly by the Commander and put a hand to her forehead to check for fever. Gently turning Lexa onto her back he put his head to her chest and checked for a heartbeat. Clarke swallowed thickly, watching him do it, because she knew that feeling, knew the need for reassurance that Lexa’s heart was still beating in there. Almost every hour Lexa was asleep Clarke found herself still checking for it as well. Lincoln carefully put the furs back over Lexa, smoothed them out, stood up and turned to Clarke, “has she woke up?”

“Once.” Clarke answered.

He asked, “Has she had anything to eat?”

His concern was touching.  She managed to reply, “I made some broth from the dried meat. I got a some of it into her a while ago."

“Heda looks good, given what happened to her. You have done well by her.”

“Thank you.” Clarke whispered.

Lincoln moved quickly back to the bag he left on the floor. Picking it up he put it onto the table, “these are her clothes for when she is ready,” he gave her an off sort of grin, “maybe there is something in there you can wear besides my shirt.”

Clarke couldn’t help the small laugh that came out of her, “my things were wet.”

“I brought more cloth for bandages. Watch for infection and fever. Heda had been terribly mutilated.” He started unpacking the bag. Taking a large sealed jar out he showed it to her, “primrose and calendula oil. If you rub it on her skin it will ease the pain and prevent infection and scarring.” He set the jar on the table and took out another one with a dry mix of herbs in it, “and this is lemon balm. It was one of the ingredients used in the vial for increasing Heda’s heart rate. But it can be made into a calming tea.  There is also peppermint.  Make it into a tea.  It will reduce fever.”

Clarke scrunched up her face in thought, “the vial had this note from Octavia, that said ‘to restart her heart.’ My mom could use that, to lessen trauma back at the Ark.”

Lincoln paused, “what Octavia wrote, isn’t exactly accurate.” He started taking other things out of the bag now. Brown packages that were probably food, another knife, another jar of something, probably the peppermint, “it isn’t so much that you ‘restarted’ her heart. Its more like what was in the vial stimulated it slowly until it was beating at its normal pace again. The poison Nyko put on Heda’s knife,” Lincoln picked it up where it laid on the table, “was carefully crafted to drastically slow the heartbeat and breathing until one can be mistaken for dead. Heda was given a very strong dose as to fool the other Fisas.” Lincoln held the knife up, “this should be seared with fire to remove the poison.”

Clarke nodded, “might keep it on there for a while." She changed the subject, "Lincoln, if it weren’t for you and the others--” Clarke drew off a second before trying again, “I mean, you had to leave us there, because of her—“ she glanced at Lexa and looked at him. Clarke saw the shift in his eyes and the slight lift of his chin. She pushed on, “but you're here.”

“Because you are my friend.” He answered her. Lincoln then glanced at where Lexa lay under the furs, “and she is Heda. She is Heda until she dies.”

“That’s why they wanted to kill her.” Clarke muttered.

Lincoln went on, “It took me some time but I finally understood. That night up there she was only trying to save as many lives as she could. You know me, Clarke,” he shrugged, “what do I always do? Try and save lives when I can.”

Clarke felt her throat clog with emotion at his honesty, “thank you Lincoln,” she choked a little and searched his eyes, “and thank the others for me?”

“I will.” He answered. He forward into the small room. Near the corner where Lexa was sleeping his hand shifted up to where a small metal grate was high at the top of the wall that she hadn’t noticed before. It was a few inches wide and almost a foot long, and she noticed for the first time that these were intermittent in places around the top of the wall, “this place used to be partly above ground.” He shifted the metal slots and light came in, “the earth reclaimed it. Buried it up. But you can still use these to see out.  There is bare dirt, under the wood over there.”  He pointed to it, "you can use it for dumping things out." Clarke nodded but she had already discovered that patch of dirt.  He glanced at the stairs; “I have a few more things up there..”

She nodded again and he quickly went back up the stairs. Clarke went to the table. She picked up the jar of primrose ointment and picked it up. She set it down and checked the bag.  Tucked inside it Lexa’s clothes were comfortingly familiar. Clarke’s hand skimmed over the worn leather before settling on the cloth Lincoln must have brought for bandages. Her hand touched wide sheets of paper and she dug through the bag quickly to find a thick, homemade sketchbook and a tin of charcoal in the bottom. He came back into the room then carrying another bag and some buckets. He set the buckets near the water jugs and placed the bag there as well.

“I found the paper.” Clarke spoke up, “thank you.” She went to the table and picked up his little book and held it out to him. He came over slowly and took it and put it in his pocket, “I know you like to draw, and I have to get back soon. Indra will want to know how things are here.”

“Lexa's alive, but its going to be an uphill fight.” Clarke answered.

"An ..uphill fight?" he asked hesitantly.

Clarke gave a soft laugh out of amusement that she didn't know she had in her at the moment, "never-mind." she said, "just tell Indra," she glanced over at Lexa and then at Lincoln, "Heda's alive." The room took on a somber tone suddenly then as if they both knew it wasn't going to be easy as that. She gripped her upper arms in both hands and glanced up the stairs.  Clarke's next words were quiet, "How is it out there?”

He glanced to where Lexa lay hidden. He looked back at Clarke with sadness in his eyes, “the people are mourning their Heda.”

They loved her.  Clarke’s heart broke a little, “Lincoln..”

“They will not stop, Clarke, the Generals. She has the Commander Spirit. When they do not find their new Heda...” he looked toward Lexa before looking back at Clarke, “there will be war.”

She inhaled and cut him off, “I know.” Sometimes it seemed Lincoln was so much a part of them that she forgot he shared the same basic beliefs as Lexa, “I won't let them kill her.”

“No." He agreed, "She does not die. Of course when she is strong enough she might argue with you on it."  He said.  Clark just snorted softly.  Like she and Lexa never argued before?  Lincoln went on, "I have to go.  And I don’t know when I can come back. You can’t leave this place, Clarke. They aren’t looking for you yet. They don’t suspect anything. But if that changes before I can come back here…”

“I know,” she repeated, wrapping her arms around herself, "I ..am glad to see someone, Lincoln. That I am not alone. It would help though," she said trying to lighten the mood a little, "if I wasn't hiding in a cemetery."

"Its creepy," he conceded, "but I found it as a boy. No one knows its here except me and Octavia. You are safe. And not alone." He reached forward then and hugged her first this time. She returned the hug, glad for his warmth, glad for his friendship. He pulled back and glanced over his shoulder toward Lexa again, “take care of Heda.”

Clarke nodded. Lincoln turned and started up the stairs. She heard him reach the door. Before he could open it she turned and called, “Lincoln!” He came back to the bottom of the stairs. When she thought the next words in her head, they had been easier. But they were harder to get out of her mouth, “if you see my mother, tell her…” he waited, his eyes softening. She finished, “tell her I’m alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is inspired by a quote by Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, "True friendship is never serene."


	10. I Think I See You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa is awake again; but not enough to reason with Clarke, especially when facing two dilemmas, the first being her ruined skin is soothed by the touch of Clarke's hands. The second, she can't seem to stay awake for it.

_Jus drein! Jus daun! Jus drein! Jus daun!_

_Some of the city chanted as they followed behind her as she walked through the city toward the blood tree. She kept her eyes forward. But her peripheral vision saw that some of her people looked so sad and broken, as they joined into the growing crowd following behind her without joining the chant._

_Jus drein! Jus daun! Jus drein! Jus daun!_

_Lexa kept her jaw firm and said nothing. She had started this same chant up herself when her army waited outside the Skaikru camp for them to hand over the boy named Finn. It could be truly intimidating. They had arrived at the base of the hill. She looked up at the jus tri. She refused to be intimidated. Not even when her some of her former generals came running up and suddenly took her armor from her. Not even when they started kicking her to the dirt and ripping open the clothes on her back. The first lash from the tongues of the whip hit her bared skin with a loud crack--_

The memory jolted Lexa awake. She opened her eyes in golden light. Warm furs were stacked under and piled over her body. Her body was wrapped in strips of cloth. She remembered what Clarke had done. Clarke had taken her from the jus tri. She tried to shift to sit but soon as she did she gasped out because every part of her that moved truly started to crackle and burn..

“Lexa..” Clarke was there then, leaning over her body in her own clothes, “shhh.” She stroked Lexa’s hair and face, then settled onto her side beside her inches from her face. Lexa felt her heart start to soar despite herself and reached for Clarke’s fingers and trapped them in her own, “Em hurts.” She breathed in a controlled tone, because she was trained to handle pain.  

“Your skin has dried to the bandages. You’ve agitated it by moving.” Clarke softly explained, “Every inch of your skin except your neck and your face has been sliced open many times over, Lexa, you have been horribly flayed.” Clarke’s eyes searched hers, “to heal, you have to hold still.”

Lexa managed a tight, small nod back and tried to listen. She held herself very still and some of the pain did fade. Looking into Clarke’s eyes she whispered, “Yu beda nou don odon disha, Klark.” But she kept her eyes soft on the blonde girl.

Clarke smiled softly, “I know.”

“Der will be wor. Yu kru will die.” She was tired and only able to manage a few words in English.

“Leksa,” Clarke gently pulled at her hand, tugging to her mouth. Lips soft as feathers kissed her cut fingers. Clarke searched her eyes, “Ai nou teik em kill yu”

“Klark,” Lexa barely felt anything, her body felt blessedly numb. But she felt a little pain hit her heart as she whispered back, “Yu don kom.”

“Shhh.” Clarke whispered, she kissed Lexa’s fingers one more time and stroked back her dried hair. With her cut hands curled loosely around Clarke’s she could almost forget the trouble and the pain and just sleep. Clarke’s lips soothed her fingers again, then her forehead. But Clarke got up and left. Lexa’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head just enough to see the girl leaving the furs. Clarke seemed to notice because she turned back to look at her, “its okay.” She said, “I just have to get some warm water started to loosen your bandages with.” Lexa nodded and allowed her eyes to close again. She could hear Clarke moving around the room they were in. She tried to stay awake, to wait for her. But she was so tired. So so tired. She tried to tell Clarke that but couldn’t form the words as sleep took her away.

When she woke again it might have been minutes later or hours later, Lexa didn’t know. But she knew instantly all her bandages were off and her skin was cold and exposed to open air. She lay on her stomach, the side of her face against soft fur. Gentle hands were running softly up and down her sides, smoothing oil into her ruined skin. Lexa rolled her eyes closed in pleasure from the soft touches. The girl’s name escaped her lips in a quiet breath before she meant it to, “Klark…” the hands lifted from her. Lexa opened her eyes. Clarke’s hands were on her back now, still soft and coated with oil, but not moving. Her head dipped into Lexa’s line of sight and without lifting her head she looked into worried blue eyes. Clarke whispered a question, “does it hurt?”

Lexa could barely breathe. But it wasn’t because of pain. Right now, she felt no pain, “nou.” She spoke at last without turning her eyes away from Clarke’s, “Em feels good.” She studied Clarke’s eyes a minute and curled her hand that was on the furs between them the best she could toward Clarke’s face. She had to stop herself just shy of touching it because she couldn’t make her fingers work enough. Lexa set her hand back onto the furs, “Beja, don’t stop.” Lexa realized in that moment that she wanted to kiss her. She thought about how perfect it would be to kiss her, right here, in the candlelight.  If she had strength in her body, if she could just sit up, she would do just that.

Clarke smiled at her. Shifted out of her line of sight. Lexa saw her hands dip into a wide jar of oil in front of her and then they were on her skin again, smoothing so gently up and down her back. Clarke started humming softly. Lexa closed her eyes as the girl’s hands ghosted over her buttocks and then drifted down her legs, soothing and soft and rubbing the oil in all the way to her feet before returning up to her back again, “it is called primrose oil. It helps ease pain, it prevents infection and lessens scarring..”

A small nod was all Lexa could manage, because she didn't think her voice would work. She watched Clarke dip her hands into the oil again and watched the trail of oil drip into the jar as she lifted them out. Then Clarke’s hands were back on her shoulders, softly sliding the oil over them, and then down the ruined skin on outsides of her arms, spreading the warm oil, and back up again. It was beautiful. Lexa had to keep catching little gasps from spilling out of her and her eyes closed as Clarke spread the healing oil over her skin. Then the soft hands went away and Lexa opened her eyes, not wanting it to end.

“Don’t try and move, Lexa,” Clarke’s eyes came down to find hers, “I am going to have to turn you over, okay?”

“Sha.” Lexa whispered, meeting the soft gaze.

Clarke shifted and gently rolled Lexa until she was laying flat on her back on the furs.

The air was still for a second.  Lexa kept her eyes closed. Then Clarke’s warm hand settled palm open softly on the ruined flat of her stomach.  But it did not move. The soft touch and the low tension in the air made Lexa open her eyes. Clarke was looking back at her as though she had no where else to look. Clarke’s other palm settled, “Leksa?”

“Its okay, Klarke,” Lexa whispered. She shifted her eyes to her broken skin before looking up at Clarke again, “yu don seen ai, sha?”  Though, if she had had her way, this was not the way that would have happened for them.

Clarke nodded and looked down. Lexa saw her swallow hard as she moved her eyes over her torn body and then back up to her eyes again. Clarke’s voice was quiet, “they cut you up bad, Lexa.” She reached over her and dipped her hands in the jar of oil. It dribbled warm onto her stomach as Clarke shifted her hands back. Gently Clarke began smoothing the oil into her skin there. Lexa’s lips parted with the soft touch. Clarke’s hands moved up to slip easily down her arms, and then gently worked the oil into the palms of her hands and each of her fingers. Lifting her fingers the little bit she could move them she latched them into Clarke’s own so the girl shifted her gaze up to her face. Lexa didn’t release the fingers. Clarke asked, “Leksa?”

She opened her eyes and answered finally, “emo did nou strat gon ai kom live.”

“They can’t just slice you up, Leksa, because they don't like you anymore.” Clarke answered shifting her hands from Lexa’s she got more of the oil from the jar and started smoothing it softly over her body again, back and forth, up and down, Clarke smoothed the warm oil over her. Lexa wasn’t sure when she closed her eyes and gave in to the sleep that was threatening her in the soft touches. But next she opened them Clarke was slowly wrapping bandages around her body. She didn’t move as the girl slowly slipped the strips around her torso and lower, then down each of her thighs and legs one at a time. At last, Clarke shifted up and started on her arm. But Lexa was so tired she could barely hold her eyes open. She was able to move her fingers just enough for the tops of them to touch one of Clarke’s hands. She knew when Clarke looked at her because the gentle wrapping motion stopped. Clarke asked, “still no pain?”

She still couldn't open her eyes, but she managed a small shake of her head.

"Then the oil is working." 

Lexa parted her lips and managed a whisper, “ai laik so tired Klark.” 

“Sleep, Lexa,” Clarke answered her softly. Right before sleep took her she felt Clarke stop her wrapping and gently squeeze one of her hands, “I am right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this Chapter inspired By "Sky Full of Stars" by Coldplay
> 
>  
> 
> This Chapter is heavy in Trigedasleng (or my bad usage of it) So, roughly, this is what is being said:
> 
> Em hurts - It hurts  
> Yu beda nou don odon disha, Klark - You should not have done this, Klark.  
> Der will be wor. Yu kru will die - There will be war. Your people will die.  
> Leksa, Ai nou teik em kill yu - Leksa, I'm not going to let them kill you.  
> Klark, Yu don kom - Klark, you have to  
> nou - no  
> Em feels good - It feels good  
> Beja, don’t stop - Please don't stop  
> yu don seen ai, sha? - You have already seen me, yes?  
> emo did nou strat gon me kom live - they didn't plan for me to live  
> ai laik so tired Klark - I am so tired, Klark


	11. Streets of Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Polis Indra receives word from Lincoln, learning Lexa lives. But she also hears some other -unexpected- news from three different clans while there. One of those clans just happen to be Azgeda.

Polis was quiet as death. Even in the daylight.  Very few people ventured out of their homes. Those few who came out came out in small numbers to leave the city and cut branches from nearby trees. Because Heda had been Trikru they used the branches instead of flowers between the buildings to line the gray streets. Some children had taken to tying small red strings on those branches because red had been the color of the commander’s sash. There were so many branches now that as Indra walked toward the capitol building she could almost feel like she wasn’t inside a city. Because in mourning of their leader Lexa’s people had turned Polis into a forest.

The Commander’s armor was mounted on display just inside the tower waiting its next recipient. This was where all the streets in Polis seemed to lead to. It was also where all the branches stopped; built up in a great ring, stacked high all around it, the Heda's armor was surrounded with branches tied with hundreds of the little red strings. A small family had just placed their branch and turned. They froze as Indra passed them. Their silent gaze was angry against her, and one of them stopped a half-grown child from running at her in rage by dropping a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

The guard started to react, “nou.” Indra said. They left the family alone and continued to follow her.

Lincoln was at the top of the first flight of steps. She was surprised he was back so early. That might not be good news. But as she reached the steps and was halfway up them he came down to her side. She didn’t spare him a glance. But she did ask, “well?” as she arrived where he was.

“It worked.” Was his answer.

It was answer enough. It meant Heda Lexa was still alive. But she could not say anything to show she understood. Some of these warriors flanking her had been more than happy to see Lexa die. The city was torn. As were the people everywhere. But while some were in mourning some were feasting, in the building across the street from her and probably in villages elsewhere. Not many things made Indra sick. But those people did. With the events leading up to the night of the sacrifice she couldn't stand how they relished the result of her Heda's treason. “Go back to your post.” Indra told Lincoln.

He nodded and turned away. She didn’t turn to follow him. She did turn to the warriors with her, “stay here.” She ordered them. They stiffened and fell into place to each side of the door on that floor.  Indra continued all the way up.

For a second, she could believe nothing was wrong in Polis, because everything in the building looked in place. From the fire on the roof to the floor under her feet. Even the hangings in the windows and walls were those that had always been there. But one thing was very much missing. The throne of trees, and the one who should be sitting there. With a scowl Indra passed through floors of the tower and went to the room upstairs. The door was already open and she stopped under it. To her surprise, Luna, the leader of the clan to the Eastern sea, was there.

“There is a dispute." Luna was saying, "some do not want to hang Heda Lexa’s portrait in the hall with the others. They say because her sins were so great it should be torn as she was.”

“She was our Leader, a great leader, for many years.” Kaia argued firmly, “it will be in the hall.”

“Yes, for the good she has done.” Luna agreed.

“Then see it is hung up, Luna, and get out of this room.” Indra snarled, seeing a break in the dialog she could insert herself into.

Both women stiffened at her words and looked at her. Kaia showed no reaction. But Luna’s eyes scraped over her like a knife scraping over bone, “Indra.” She growled lowly.

Indra stared back at her solidly, “leave.” She growled.

Luna stiffened her spine, “you could have saved her.”

“She,” Luna began, advancing on Luna, “made her choice, and I made mine.” She stopped where Luna was.

Kaia reached in and touched Luna on the shoulder breaking the deadlock. Luna turned her head toward Kaia and so did Indra. Kaia dropped her hand from Luna’s shoulder, “you know Heda Lexa would not have allowed us to stop it, Luna.  It was the law.  She went to the tree herself.”

Luna inhaled sharply and gave a tight nod. She glared at Indra and grated, “but this one didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” She said. She pushed past Indra then, shoving her hard aside in the process of heading toward the door.

“Close it behind you.” Indra said back to Luna, without turning, without warning. A second later she heard it slam, leaving herself and Kaia alone in the room. Indra’s eyes shifted over to a window. She looked out into the quiet, gray, streets lined with trees below. Then she closed the window and turned, “you are supposed to be in Tondc in my absence.”

“I never made it there.” Kaia answered. She paused, the air heavy and already growing stuffy in the closed room, “the Triprisa?”

“It ended like we hoped it would.” Indra turned. She searched Kaia’s eyes, “but we must never speak of her. Not even so indistinctly. Understand?”

Kaia nodded.

“The Skaikru?” Indra asked dryly out of respect for what she knew would be the wishes of her Heda.

“Reports say Octavia hasn’t arrived yet. Until she does, we cannot help them.”

“So why are you here?” Indra asked next.

Kaia clenched her jaw at the question, her high cheek bones shifting with discomfort, “the stakes are higher than you think, Indra. That is why I am not at Tondc. That is why I came back here. The Trikru claim to have found the new Heda among them. Her name is Leona. I have already brought her here.”

Idra stared for a second, digesting those words. She stiffened her jaw and replied, “no.”

“Luna’s people also report the same, to have found the new Heda in their clan as well. That girl is named Allegany. Luna has brought her. That is why she is here.”

Indra took a step forward, “impossible. You know it is not possible.”

“Indra,” Kaia warned, “I have seen the two. They have the right look. In the past three days each of them have set aside everything they did before. They talk about the Skaikru, the Wanheda and the war. They are female. 10 of the past 11 commanders have been female. Also each have chosen women for a mate.”

“No.” Indra repeated coldly, “Everyone knew those things about Heda Lexa. They could be _anyone_.”

“Indra,” Kaia added lowly, “the Azgeda are sending a girl as well.”

“The Azgeda,” she growled the name and closed the two steps between herself and Luna, “have never been anything but trouble. They are bringers of death. They are doing nothing but taking advantage of Heda being gone to make a grab at power.”

Kaia’s lips pulled at the corners as though she was amused at Indra’s outburst, “most likely,” she agreed. The angles of her face behind the cords of hair looked at Indra, “but we have to do something. More and more people each day are starting to look for Heda.  They will ask questions soon.”

Indra snarled low in her throat. She whipped around to stare out the window, “we follow procedure.” She said at last, dropping her tone back into its normal only partly agitated levels, “two of these girls are in the capital now?”

“Yes.”

“When the Azgeda girl arrives we will test them,” Indra decided,” and when they fail, they will be killed. Their heads will hang over the gates for treason.” She shot a pointed glance Kaia’s way. Kaia’s lips twitched a little but she nodded, “that would be the way for such treason.” She agreed.

Indra looked back out the window, “what is the name of the Azgeda girl?”

“The Azgeda girl’s name is Echo.”


	12. Gray at the Edges

Light flickered from the candle. Not much of it was left. In just a few hours it would go out. It would be the third candle they had burned through. But Clarke could not know how many days it had been since bringing Lexa here. Night and day had blended into one.

She had changed into some of Lexa’s things, the tattered black shirt and pants she recognized most that she had sometimes seen Lexa wear under her armor. Lexa was taller so it didn’t fit exactly right. But it felt better than just wearing an old shirt. Clarke had been happy when she had discovered the wooden comb with the handle shaped like the twisted trunk of a tree. Lincoln didn’t keep long hair, so she guessed it belonged to Octavia. Clarke thought she must have gone to heaven when she found it, when she’d finally had been able to comb her matted hair out. She braided it back into a single braid so it wouldn’t get in the way on her paper. She hadn’t worn it like that, she realized, since her days in solitary. But as she drew by the light of the candle it felt a little like she was in solitary now. She had no idea where to go from here. She didn’t know if there was even a plan. She had just grabbed Lexa, and ran.

The lines and shades of blacks and grays were difficult to draw in nothing but raw charcoal. But she wasn’t going for any detailed work of art. She only wanted to capture a memory from her mind before it was faded.  Because it was the sort of memory that would never be gone. So she drew the swift sloping swirls out that cornered into hard straight bands, corners and lines.

“You look good in my clothes, Klark.”

Clarke looked up. Lexa’s voice had been unexpected because she thought she had been sleeping. But no, the Grounder Commander was laying on her back on the furs, head turned to the side to watch her. The unexpected compliment, and the way it was said, sent a little flutter loose inside Clarke that reminded her of all the reasons she had fallen for Lexa in the first place. It wasn’t the power. It wasn’t the title. It was this secret side of Lexa that no one else saw. She dropped her gaze back to her drawing but a small smile tugged at Clarke’s lips as she swept the next black curve and hard angle into existence on the paper, “thank you, Lexa.” She said, “but I think I like them better on you myself. How long have you been watching me?”

“A while now.” Lexa admitted, “I like watching you draw.”

Clarke couldn’t help the small laugh that left her, “you haven’t seen me draw before, Lexa.”

“I know.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and tried changing the subject, “you’re speaking English again,” she noted, “That’s good.”

But Lexa didn’t take the bait. Her lips twitched a little, “what are you drawing?” she asked.

“It’s a memory.” Clarke admitted. She put the charcoal down and slid the page under another sheet of paper for now and looked at Lexa, “how do you feel?”

Lexa shifted her gaze up to the stone ceiling of the small room. She seemed to consider it a moment then at last said, “my skin is tight. Itches.”

“Does it hurt?” Clarke asked.

“Not as bad.”

“Then it’s healing,” Clarke said to her, “that oil we used will keep it from scarring as much.”

Lexa’s lips twitched a little, “don’t worry, Clarke. It won’t scar as badly as you think. Our bodies are used to a hard life.”

“Probably they are not used to being cut up like that, Lexa.” Clarke pointed out. But she stopped herself because she remembered Lexa had carried out this exact form of punishment, if to a lesser degree, on others. So Clarke added, “and surviving it.”

Lexa shifted her gaze back to the ceiling. Finally she asked, “where are we?”

Clarke pushed back her chair and stood up and the motion made Lexa look at her again. Clarke went to her and crouched, “you want to try and sit up?” Lexa nodded. Clarke reached down for her wrist and very gently pulled while Lexa struggled but pushed herself into a sitting position. Clarke reached down and put some furs between Lexa’s torn back and the wall and then she helped her lean back against them. Lexa pulled her legs in just a little, slightly bending them at the knees, which was good. Clarke commented, “You are getting some mobility back.”

“My skin pulls when I move.”

“It will.” Clarke answered. She settled beside Lexa on the furs then, “I hope it stops.  Lexa, the night I,” she paused as the image of Lexa chained to the tree flashed past her eyes. Clarke tried again, “the night I took you from that tree we couldn’t go far and not be caught. We are in an old cemetery, somewhere near Polis.”

But if Lexa was bothered by their location she didn’t show it. Instead she just waited a few seconds and finally asked, “How did you get to the jus tri, Klark? A lot of my people are still ..tense.. around Skaikru. Especially,” she paused and studied Clarke before continuing, “especially after the Mountain.”

“What, you’re afraid we’ll bomb you?” Clarke asked back, looking toward her.

Lexa’s eyes went from open to blank. She nodded stiffly, her commander nod, “some of us are. Most people fear you.”

Clarke hesitated a second, watching Lexa, who was cautiously watching her back. Clarke pulled her knees in and wrapped her arms around them, “I’ve killed enough people, Lexa. I don’t want to kill yours, or any others.”

Lexa’s assessive eyes skated over Clarke, “I never thought you would.”

Clarke sighed, “but I guess that’s what got me into Polis,” she glanced at Lexa and said dryly, “I’m famous, it seems.”

“Wanheda.” Lexa’s tone had softened just a little.

Clarke shifted a little, “so you’ve heard of it.”

“Everyone has, Klark. You are a legend.”

“I don’t want to be a legend, Lexa.” Clarke stated. She paused and lowered her head as Lexa got quiet beside her. “Anyway, it seems I am more than just a sky girl now and maybe that’s what got me in and made them listen. But you also have something of a fan club that helped out.”

Lexa twitched her head a little, “Fan club?”

Clarke snorted, “I swear between you and Lincoln…” she muttered softly shaking her head, “it means that you have some people out there who really care about you.”

That made Lexa's eyes dart to hers. She stared at Clarke a few seconds after that. Then, finally, Lexa closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the furs between her torn back and the wall, “I don’t deserve it.”

In reply Clarke quickly reached out and grabbed Lexa’s wrist, getting her attention and making her open her eyes, “you don’t deserve to be chained to a tree and _slaughtered_ , Lexa. Your skin might never fully recover. It might always pull and be tight. And I don’t even want to think about the nerve damage that might have been done.”

“But what I did at the mountain.” Lexa said back, quietly, in that tone that made her seem like she did indeed have a soul that lived whole other lifetimes inside her. She blinked once, she let her gaze wander Clarke’s face before looking into her eyes again, “what I did to you at the mountain.”

Clarke dropped her wrist then, maybe a bit more roughly than she meant to. Sitting back she examined her own hands, hands that had killed so many, “I don’t want to talk about the mountain, Lexa.” In here, with something to do, she could almost just forget again, almost.

“Klark someday--”

Clarke snapped her eyes around, “I said no.”

Lexa conceded, “okay.”

“Okay,” Clarke repeated. In the months that followed the Mountain she had felt so blessedly blank. But since hearing about Lexa and seeing her on that tree, emotions had just been pouring and pouring themselves back in. A certain feeling of ceasefire came back when Clarke finally spoke, “some food is ready. You should eat.”

Lexa’s lips turned softly up at one corner, “Klarke, I can’t even sit on my own.”

“You will, soon. But you’re going to need to eat some--” a she was cut off by a distant shout from outside. Clarke’s head whipped up to the grate Lincoln had pulled open where bars of daylight spilled in. She glanced at Lexa to see the Commander had gone utterly silent and was looking toward the grate. She looked at Clarke. Clarke got to her feet and went up to the grate and looked out.

She saw only the half buried rows of cemetery stones and the trees at the edge of the clearing. Then something moved in them. The movement took the shape of Grounders combing the forest and Clarke felt every muscle in her stomach tense up. She glanced at Lexa, who was staring back at her in utter silence, she glanced at the bag on the table where she had left her gun. She looked out the grate again. As she did a Grounder woman with two small children appeared. Clarke exhaled in relief. The group stopped and started pulling branches from the trees.

“What is it?” Lexa’s voice was that steady, quiet hiss.

“Nothing,” Clarke answered at last, coming back to where she was she knelt with Lexa, “just some people cutting branches from the trees.”

“My people?” Lexa asked. Her voice intense as it ever had been when she spoke about them.

Clarke gave her a silent nod; “we have to stay quiet until they are gone,” she stole a glance up to the grate, “because some of your people, they want you dead.”

Lexa looked up to the grate. She looked back at Clarke, “there is only one end to this, Clarke.” She whispered.

“No.” Clarke whispered back, “I don’t believe that.” Was she in that big of a hurry to get back on that tree?

“But it won’t be today.” Lexa said next. Shifting to sit against the wall again she worked her fingers through Clarke’s the best she could, settled her head back against the wall, closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Lexa.” Clarke exhaled softly. She settled back against the wall, and closed her eyes as well.


	13. Branch of the Olive

Octavia’s hair flew back wildly in the wind. She knew the horse was charging as fast as it could carry her. But it had to go faster. In the early morning light she came up the hill at last. She didn’t stop her horse as as Camp Jaha came into view at the bottom of the slope, remains of the Ark shining in the sun. If anything else, she kicked it to go faster. Octavia grabbed her radio from her waist, the one piece of her equipment that was dead-ringer Skaikru technology, “Raven,” she snapped into it, Octavia grit her teeth as the horse jumped over a fallen tree, “God damn it, Raven you had better be up!” No answer. With the camp getting closer Octavia shouted into the radio, “Raven!”

“Im up, I’m up, what is it O?” Came a tired but snappy and short answer.

Octavia smiled as her horse charged down the hillside closing the last few yards between herself and Camp Jaha, “better get those gates open fast, Raven. I’m coming in.” She took her hand off the radio button and watched the gates. "Come on, come on…" she begged the gates to swing open in her head. Right as she thought they wouldn’t get them open in time she prepared to bring her Horse to what would have been a screeching stop. But just at the last second the gates started to swing open allowing just enough space as her Horse flew through.

Only in the dark did she slow the horse to stop and finally she swung down. A quick glance around the wet gray camp as people groggily started to appear. Raven was advancing on her fast, even for having a bad leg. Hair mussed from sleep and having appeared to barely have pulled on boots and a coat the got into Octavia’s space, “Octavia, warrior princess has returned,” Raven put her hands on her hips, “O, what the hell is going on?”

Octavia gave her an apologetic and yet cursory glance and strode past her, “I need to talk to Abby and Kane.”

“Whoa,” Raven began, trailing her. She grabbed Octavia by the shoulder and Octavia automatically spun around. The intensity in her eyes in her eyes made Raven step back just a little. Taking a cursory glance of her Raven asked, “What’s going on, O?”

“Just get them.” Octavia said, she saw one of the guards from the gates come over and handed off her horse. She looked back at Raven, “please.”

“Is it about Clarke?” Raven asked, “Have you seen her? Is she alive?”

Octavia almost confirmed two and a half of those things to her friend. But she couldn’t. Not yet. “Just get them to the council room in five minutes, Raven.”

“Okay.” Raven stated, glaring at her, clearly put out as she took another step away, “they will be there in five.”

“Thank you.” Octavia somehow remembered to say.

“Yeah, O, yeah..” Raven muttered, “whatever,” she added, then she turned and strode away first. Octavia started toward the Ark as well, in her brisk pace, passing by Raven. A few of the people she had waked up that morning stumbled fast to be out of her way as she moved through them and entered the Ark. It felt cold. It felt like a cage. It felt like the cage that to her, it always was. And though it was never home and though she had spent the first sixteen years of her life under the floor, since the Ark had landed on the ground she had taken the time to learn where everything was.  So she pushed into the counsel room first that morning. She stopped at the sight of the table in front of her. She had never been in here, but she knew, that was the table where the decision was made to float her mom.

The door slammed open behind her, “is it about Clarke?” Abby’s voice demanded. Octavia spun in time to see Clarke’s mother, enter the room, a night-robe pulled around her body she was just tying the belt of. Marcus Kane was in much the same state and rubbing his forehead, “you Grounders sure as hell get up early.” He muttered. Then he saw the look on her face.

Abby demanded, “well? Where is Clarke?”

Marcus was already more focused, “Octavia,” he asked cautiously, “what is it?”

Octavia waited for the door to close. Looking at the two she folded her arms and finally started to speak, “I am here out of courtesy of Indra.”

“Yeah, I thought that ended.” Marcus answered.

“Clarke?” Abby prompted, “Have you seen her? Is she alright.”

Knowing the woman wasn’t going to stop until she had her answer Octavia almost snapped, “Clarke is fine. Or she was when I saw her.”

“Oh thank God.” Abby almost sank into the metal floor. Her eyes widened, she asked, “wait, you saw her? When?”

“Abby.” Kane warned, glancing at her. And thankfully, Abby gained some control of herself at his reminder and fell quiet. Kane prompted, “What does Indra want?”

“For me to tell you that Heda Lexa is no longer in command.” Octavia answered, “She has been taken to the Tree.”

“Wait, what?” Marcus prompted again with a glance at Abby whom had suddenly grown much more pale. Marcus took a step forward, “taken to the tree?” He asked. His eyes shifted a little as he played it out in his head. He asked, “They killed her? Their own commander?” he seemed stunned, “why?”

“For treason.” Octavia explained, “for siding with the enemy at the mountain.”

“For treason?” Marcus seemed shock.

Abby was shaking her head, “that girl was always trouble, but I know how much she loved--”

Octavia turned on Abby, “that _girl_ ,” she stressed, “ _Heda_ Lexa is the only reason any of you Skaikru are still alive. She is only reason you have not been attacked yet, even after the fall of that damn mountain. Trikru would have come by thousands and razed you over to keep you from taking control of it. Without Heda Lexa's protection you and everyone here are in danger.”

Kane looked at Abby, but Abby said nothing. Kane asked, “What does Indra suggest?”

“Two things,” Octavia answered, “the first is we destroy the silo in the mountain, and you go there.  Lock yourselves in and never come out again. That’s probably the one she’d prefer.”

“And the second?” Abby asked.

“Come live with her people in Tondc. But you must cast off your ways and become Trikru. You will be taught our ways instead.”

“She wants us to …become Trikru?” Abby asked in shock.

“She would bring you into the clan. You will live by our laws only, under her authority only and become one people with them. The Skaikru, their ways and customs will be gone. She will treat you fairly once you have done this. Don’t misunderstand though,” Octavia reminded them, “she offers this only out of respect for Heda Lexa because she knows she would have wished it. You have two days to decide,” Octavia told the pair, “then, we all go into Tondc together and you will at least be safe, or I go back there alone.”


	14. A Commander's Tears

“Next time my people come I have to go with them.” Lexa sat at the table, legs pushed out one over the other. She was staring into nothing, looking down with her arms folded loosely across her lap, as though she was giving this a lot of thought. Moving around the buckets at the fire Clarke chose to ignore the comment for now. She turned to the table when she was done, “water will be ready to do your bandages soon. We should comb out your hair.”

Lexa met her eyes. After a second she nodded, "okay."

“Okay,” Clarke said, “but first I need you to do something.”

Lexa searched her face, “what?”

Looking around Clarke picked up Lexa’s sheathed knife off the table and held it out, “I need you to open this, and stab it into that table,” she looked at the table she stood by and Lexa sat in front of. Clarke gave her a little encouraging smile, “like you used to do?”

She seemed surprised to see it. But only for a second. Like a child comforted by a long lost toy, as though she’d just been given a missing piece of her back she took the knife slowly and flipped it –still sheathed- over a few times with both hands before looking up at Clarke, “you stabbed me with it.” She said, suddenly, as though the memory just came back to her from that night.

“I had to. It saved your life." Suddenly remembering Lexa's tenancy when idle to play with knives she added, "and you should be careful. It still has the poison and we're fresh out of the cure.”

Lexa still held the covered knife in both hands but she didn’t unsheathe it. Instead, she gave Clarke an upward glance similar to the one she had on the first day they met, when Clarke walked into her tent, “you should have left me to die.”

“I seem to remember us having this conversation and I don’t remember being too keen on it then, either. Lexa,” Clarke said, motioning to the knife, “please.”

Lexa studied her a second, “I’m serious, Klark.” She let the sheathed knife drop into one hand.

Clarke snorted a little, “Okay, now I know we have.” She said. “Come on, Lexa,” she prompted, motioning to the table.

Watching Clarke, but clearly not pleased, Lexa brought her hands together and slowly pulled the knife from the sheath. Still staring at Clarke she twitched her fingers on the handle of it a little as though tying to get a good grip. Clarke lowered her eyes a little and ran her tongue across the back of her teeth as she watched Lexa shift her fingers and try to grip it tight again. Clarke made herself look back. At last Lexa stopped, “I can’t.” She said. Something shone in Lexa’s eyes that Clarke was not used to seeing.  But she knew that Lexa hated the idea of being weak.  She always had.

“I know.” Clarke said. She’d been suspecting this, in all the loose touches Lexa had been giving her; she had never tightened her fingers once. Stepping forward, Clarke took the knife, “hey,” she said, sheathing it she put it behind her on the table and knelt a little to look into Lexa’s face, “it could still come back.” And since she was already breaking Lexa’s heart Clarke decided it was best to get it all done at once, “I need you to try one more thing."

“What, Clarke?” Lexa, almost, snapped, hitting her hard with vibrant green eyes instead.

But Clarke didn’t back down, “stand up,” she said, “come on, I will help you like before.” Clarke tugged at Lexa’s arms and together they got her out of the chair. Lexa was unsteady on her feet quite a bit but found her balance between Clarke and the edge of the table. When she was steady on her feet Clarke glanced up at her, “ready?”

Grinding her teeth together in determination Lexa nodded.

”Okay,” Clarke said, slowly she let her go and stepped away from her. Clarke smiled, “you’re doing good Lexa.”

“Is this it?” Lexa asked, "just stand up like this?"

“Not quite. Hold your arms out a little at your sides,” Clarke prompted, watching her.

Looking at her like she was absurd, Lexa did as Clarke asked.

“Okay, good,” Clarke replied, “now hold them out at your sides even with your shoulders, like a T.” She demonstrated.

Lexa made the motion and put her arms out.

“Okay,” Clarke said, folding her arms, “now over your head.”

Lexa moved her arms to try but her face contorted a little and she lost her footing. Clarke moved forward and caught her quickly around the waist and helped her back into her chair. Clarke was right there with her, hand gently braced on the back of the chair looking into Lexa’s eyes when she opened them, “you knew didn’t you?” she asked softly.

Lexa gave her a tight nod, “what is it?” she demanded, "and can it be fixed?"

“Your nerves have been damaged, Lexa, from being hung by the wrists. It could still clear up.” she said.

Direct as ever Lexa asked, “but it might not?”

Clarke wanted to deny it. She wanted to do something to keep Lexa from having to face that little truth. But she knew sugar-coating this wasn’t the way to go with Lexa, “it might not.” She confirmed, “but we’re going to try everything to get your full range of motion back, okay?”

Lexa looked back at her and her familiar determined glow filled her eyes. She nodded once. But it was that particular nod she used when she meant whatever she had just said. So Clarke smiled at her, “okay,” she said. She stepped back and moved, picking up the jar of primrose oil from the table she pulled another bowl of peppermint wash she had made near, “we’re going to change your bandages soon,” she looked at the water warming in the buckets and picked up the comb from the table, “but first, lets get the blood washed out of your hair.”

Lexa noticed the comb and motioned to it, “where did you get that?”

“Lincoln brought it,” Clarke hesitated, then realized something, “its yours?"

"Yes."

Clarke went around to the back of the chair and gently lifted handful Lexa’s hair over, “well, it's beautiful. Where did you get it?” Slowly as not to pull, Clarke started bringing the crusted mass of Lexa’s curls over the back of the chair a handful or two at a time.

“Indra gave it to me when I was first called. She told me if I insisted on keeping my hair long, then, as Heda, I at least needed to keep it combed and not as much a rat’s nest as it was when I was Anya’s Second.”

“Rat’s nest?” Clarke laughed in surprise. But she gently ran her hand along Lexa’s scalp and pulled a bit more of the tangles over the back of the chair, “Indra said that to you?”

“She gets away with too much, sometimes.” Lexa admitted. There was a quiet pause and then Lexa shifted her chin a bit Clarke’s direction, “she was behind this, wasn’t she? Your kidnapping me?”

“What makes you think that?” Clarke asked, she finished gathering the mass of Lexa’s braids and curls now and was busy staring at it trying to figure out where to even begin. Even in ruins the braids were intricate. As a second thought she added, "and I didn't kidnap you."

“That comb was in my room in Polis.” Lexa answered casually. She shifted her gaze Clarke’s direction, “Lincoln could not have taken it.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. She shut it. But not before, she knew, Lexa saw the look. Clarke hid a smile, "I’m still not talking, Lexa.” She changed the subject, “so your hair..” she ran her hand down the knots and tangles in the braids. Her fingers snagged on them a little, “how do you do this?”

“I don’t, Klark.” She replied.

“Okay,” Clarke answered, “right..” she reached for a handful of Lexa’s hair and gently started working the comb through the very ends of it, one side to the other, first. Then she moved a little higher up to the first section of the braids. Clarke stopped and looked at them closely. They were tied with bits of leather. Getting up she went to the table and picked up the second knife that Lincoln had brought with him and brought it back to where Lexa was and knelt behind her again. Somehow Lexa knew even though her eyes were closed, “are you going to try and kill me again?” she asked, not at all tense.

“Never.” Clarke replied, taking the knife she sliced through the first little tie before shifting her hands slowly around through Lexa’s braids and cutting the ties off of them, “I am afraid if you want to die now, Lexa, you’ll have to kill yourself.”

“Doing that would keep my spirit from coming back,” Lexa answered, matter of fact as ever. She looked over her shoulder toward Clarke, “if you kill yourself, your spirit can’t come back.”

Clarke stopped slicing leather ties from braids, “Lexa, I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t.”

Clarke sighed, “well, I guess you are stuck being Lexa, then. Because you’re not going back to that tree either.” She started slicing through ties again.

“It’s only a matter of time until they come for me, Clarke.”

That was when Clarke realized for the first time that Lexa didn’t know her own people thought she was dead. But she said nothing. Instead, she cut the last leather tie out of Lexa’s hair and set the knife down, slowly, carefully, she started unraveling all the little braids one at a time with her fingers. It took some time, and she picked up the comb again several times to work out tangles and knots. But finally she unraveled the very last braid. Pushing to her feet Clarke took the comb and started working it carefully through the curls. Lexa tipped her head back slowly as the teeth of the comb dragged gently over her scalp as though she was starved for touch. Clarke realized she probably was and did it a few more times even after the tangles loosened and the comb started slipping softly through. Finally she traded the comb for her fingertips. They slid through the long curls, twisting and sliding between them all the way down to the ends. Lexa’s hair, even in the state it was, felt like silk as she did a final pass of her fingers through it. “Okay,” she whispered under her breath, startled at the fact that she couldn’t really speak she tugged at Lexa’s hand to rouse the sated looking Commander. Lexa opened her eyes and lifted her head. Clarke tugged at her hand again and urged her to her feet, “lets get it washed.”

Using the table for balance Lexa stood up. Clarke turned the chair around so the back was against the table. She set three buckets, one empty and two of them full of warm water on the surface, along with the bowl of peppermint wash, “okay so, go ahead and sit down.” Lexa looked at Clarke as though she was oddly entertaining and as though she was waiting for whatever she was going to do next. Finally she sat down. Clarke had to look away or she might start laughing at herself. She could say that never, in a million years, when she first met the Grounder Commander in her tent did she ever think one day she would be in a cemetery washing her hair. “Tip your head back,” she asked. She waited a second as Lexa tipped back her head then Clarke swept all her hair up and moved it over the back of the chair. Then she grabbed one of the empty buckets, caught Lexa’s hair in it and placed the bucket on the table behind her under her head. Pulling the bucket of warm water close she asked, “ready?”

“Yes, Klark.” Lexa answered, then she closed her eyes.

Clarke never felt as nervous in her life as when she slowly poured some of the warm water over Lexa’s hair and started scrubbing out blood. When the water turned red the first time she thought she would be sick. She knew they had every intention of killing Lexa, but the blood pooling in the water reminded how brutal it had been. Clarke emptied the bucket and put it back under Lexa’s hair and poured more water over it. It took a while. She had to empty it a couple more times. But finally the water wasn’t coming out red when she slipped her wet fingers through its weight. Combing her fingers a few times along Lexa’s scalp Clarke was satisfied at last, “I think we got it.” She said. She lifted the bowl of peppermint wash and used it as a rinse and set the bowl down. But there was still dark ash mixed into Lexa’s hairline where her warpaint bled into her hair. Clarke shifted and gently smoothed her fingers back from Lexa’s closed eye into her hairline to see if she could work it loose. Soon she realized the ash had stained the bits of hair, “I guess it’s..” she brushed her fingers back from Lexa’s other eye and into her hairline. Only then did she notice the soft grunt from Lexa’s throat. Clarke looked down. Lexa’s eyes were tightly closed.

“It’s the tears of the commander,” Lexa explained, her voice hoarse in her throat. Without opening her eyes she shifted one arm around Clarke’s side to pull her closer, “legend has it that radiation burned the First Commander’s tears into her face as she cried, fighting for the lives of her people. Ever since all Commanders paint the same, crying in battle for our people.” She opened her eyes and looked up at Clarke, “no one ever touches me there. They don’t touch my face.”

Clarke’s breath hitched and suddenly she felt she had done something terribly wrong, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I--” she tried to back up but Lexa’s arm caught her, tugging her back. Clarke ended up tumbling forward and straddling Lexa’s lap and both Lexa’s arms caught around her as Lexa sat up, holding her in place, “Lexa, your cuts, your legs--”

“I don’t care,” Lexa whispered hard against her ear. Clarke sat back and found she looking into burning green eyes. It made her breath catch. It made her heart stop. It made her stomach fill with butterflies and Clarke suddenly felt very weak. And that was when Lexa slowly slid her fingers under the hem at the back of Clarke's barrowed-from-Lexa shirt to rest against her skin. Closing her eyes Lexa settled her head on the back of the chair once more, tipping her neck back, “do it, Klark.” She said, "if you want to touch me, do it."  Her hands moved to Clarke's hips, hands that knew far too many ways to kill but seemed so gentle with her.

It hit Clarke like a thousand jolts. Lexa would let her take anything. Biting her lips together to hold back the stutter of her own breath Clarke leaned in slowly and carefully pressed her lips to against the side of Lexa’s throat. She kept them there a minute, to feel the beat of Lexa’s racing blood.  There was so much tension held in the body beneath her, “God, Lexa.” Clarke breathed against her skin. She didn’t mean to but the two words escaped before she could stop them. Clarke lifted her head slowly at last from that pulse point. She sat up and lifted her left hand first gently to Lexa’s face.  Slowly she set three fingers to Lexa’s skin and ran them softly from her eye down the trails her war paint would take. Lexa barely seemed to be breathing. She shifted under Clarke and slid her arms around her waist to her back again as though it was taking everything she had just to hold her. A warm feeling settled in Clarke’s stomach. Lifting her right hand, Clarke softly trailed three fingers down from Lexa’s other closed eye as well. Clarke’s heart was racing, racing and racing. She moved forward very gently then with Lexa’s face in her hands and very gently pressed her lips to the empty space between Lexa’s eyes. She left her lips there a second. Then she kissed the spot of skin again. Lexa’s fingers fumbled at the skin at her back and a soft noise came her mouth. Clarke sat back just a little bit, “Leksa?” she looked down into Lexa’s closed eyes.

Lexa’s eyes burned like fire when she opened them, “Klark?”

And Clarke’s voice caught in her throat. Because she knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she knew exactly what she had to do, “I want to kiss you,” she said, her eyes shifted to Lexa’s lips. She remembered the feel of them against hers and her mouth went dry, “but we have to stop.”

“Its okay, Klark, the cuts will heal.” Her hands shifted and started rubbing soothing patterns on Clarke’s lower back.

“Its not that either, Leksa, listen,” she took a deep breath and hoped she knew what she was doing, “I can’t do this, I can’t kiss you, I can't fall, unless you stop telling me you have to die. You have to want to live, Leksa. Find a way to stay alive.” Clarke’s heart was racing now, out of fear she shouldn’t feel. If Lexa rejected her--

“I can never choose you over my people.” Lexa whispered at last, her eyes searched Clarke’s sadly. The small patterns on her back stopped at the same time. Lexa swallowed, “you know this, Klark.”

“Yeah,” Clarke answered, “first hand.” Feeling she was collapsing inside she shifted off of Lexa and got up.

“That isn’t fair, Clarke,” Lexa scolded after her.

“Yeah, well, life’s not fair sometimes,” she said, turning to face her, “I thought you guys would of had that all figured out by now. And while we are at it, you’ve spent all this time in here getting better, letting me heal you, making me care about you, and you’re just going to go back there and let them kill you. Why?”

“Clark,“ Lexa’s voice hitched. Lexa she shifted in her chair and used the table to help her stand, “you have to--”

“No. I don’t have to do anything. That’s up to you.” Clarke said to her, she saw Lexa inhale sharply. Clarke trailed her eyes down her then looked up at her face. Clarke inhaled too, “part of you wants to live, Lexa, or you wouldn’t be in here putting up with this shit. Find a way to make it work.” She said. Lexa only lifted her chin slightly. Clarke grabbed the buckets on the table; mostly because she needed something to do other than stand there under Lexa’s gaze, “we should get started on your bandages.” She moved to put the buckets away.

And Lexa could only watch her, with quiet brooding eyes.


	15. Wing and a Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia outlines to Raven what is coming to Camp Jaha, the options Indra gave, and that she has another plan...

“Raven?” Octavia stepped into Raven’s shop. Raven, hearing her name, looked up from the pile of electronic parts she was removing wires from on her desk that, no matter how much Octavia tried, she’d probably never be able to make sense of. Standing up Raven looked at her like though she was expecting something. Octavia knew what it was, “sorry about earlier.”

“Okay,” Raven said, she gave Octavia a little smile. With Raven, sometimes an apology was all it took. Sometimes. She motioned Octavia further into the room, “so, what’s up? Camp Jaha in trouble again? You found Clarke but she’s totally screwed by Grounders, and Lincoln’s out doing …God knows what Lincoln does?” Raven continue poking with the contraptions on her desk, "am I right?"

Octavia bit her lips together a minute before replying, “maybe all the above.”

Raven looked up, “O?”

“Well, its like this,” Octavia came in the room and sat down, “Heda’s gone, Camp Jaha was under her protection, and now everyone in here is in danger.”

Raven stared at her a second and blinked, “oh, is that all?”

“Basically,” Octavia sighed, “yeah.”

Raven came around the side of her desk and went to where Octavia was, “so, Lexa’s dead?”

Octavia looked up at her carefully, “you almost sound like you like that?”

“After what she did to me and to Finn--”

“Yeah, I know. But Finn did that to himself, Raven.” Octavia said, “Look, I can’t say a lot, okay. I hate a lot of what she and Clarke has done but-“

“Lexa took that damn deal with the Mountain.” Raven interrupted.

Octavia looked up at Raven, “which is why she’s gone.”

Raven sat down, “so now what?”

“Abby and Kane are deciding what to do.” Octavia answered, “Indra gave them a couple options.”

“Indra, as in Grounder Indra?” Raven studied her, “I thought that was over.”

“She needed help with something.” Octavia admitted vaguely glossing over it, “in return Lincoln and I have free range of Trikru territories. Villages too. Towns. Whatever. Just have to obey their laws and rules and try to stay out of the way when we can.”

“Then you’re not, you know, her…” Raven motioned to Octavia's swords.

“Not her second. No.” That still hurt. But that wasn’t what she was here for, “so, with Heda gone, so is her protection of you guys. Probably people are riding to stamp you out right now.”

”Awesome.” Raven folded her arms, “Abby and Kane?”

“Are deciding what they want to do about it. Basically, Indra gave them two options. The Trikru get to blow up the weapons left in the Mountain, and you guys all return there and lock yourselves in forever."

“I hate the Mountain.” Raven said, She curled her arms around herself, “Its out for me.”

“The other was for you all to move to Tondc and become part of her people.”

“She wants us to join her Clan?” Raven seemed surprised as Abby and Kane had been. But Raven pursed her lips as though giving it some thought, “I mean, I guess. I could show them how to make radios and stuff.” She glanced at the pile of junk on her desk before looking back at Octavia.

“Well that’s the catch,” Octavia added, “everything Skaikru; customs, technology, laws, guns. It all would have to stay behind.”

Raven’s mouth dropped, “great, you know. What the hell is that supposed to mean for me?” In agitation she motioned to her injured leg, “what am I supposed to do as a Grounder? Braid hair and make baskets?”

Octavia, despite herself, cracked a grin at the image Raven making baskets, “Calm down, okay.” she said, "I came up with another option. You know, I did find Clarke.”

Raven’s mouth dropped, “you found her? Where?” then she got quiet because she knew that everyone had mixed feelings about Clarke. Octavia in particular. Raven asked, “is she okay?”

“For now.” Octavia answered, “and I know, Rae, she’s done a lot of terrible things. Things I hate, like I said--”

“But?”

“okay,” Octavia tried again, “I am not saying what Clarke did was right. But all she ever wanted was for us to be safe. To help her friends. I watched her. That’s what she was fighting for and did everything she did for. Well, it might be our turn to fight now.” The words were hard to say because she knew they were not the _total_ truth.  Not yet. But Raven had a hard time understanding about how she felt about the Trikru being her real people and this wasn't just about Clarke, it would help the Trikru too. So she finished with a general, “and I might owe her one.”

And Raven was just staring at her. But at last she sat forward, “okay,” she said, “I’m in. So what’s the plan?”

Octavia pointed out now, “There’s Trikru involved. We have to work with them.”

“You say that as though I should be surprised." Raven said, "with Clarke, there is _always_ Grounders. Which happens to double the chances of with both of you together.”

Octavia only grunted at that. Because she knew it was probably true, “we’re going to a city.”

“Damn City of Light, thing?”

“No. Heda’s capitol.”

Raven’s eyes snapped open, “Clarke is at the Grounder Capitol!? Holy shit! Does her mom know?”

“I told her she’s alive and that’s it, now shh!” Octavia shushed her friend quickly; she glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were not overheard. Satisfied they weren’t she looked back at Raven and answered, “besides Clarke isn’t at the capitol anymore. But that’s where we start. Lots of shit to blow up along the way, probably. I think.”

“You tease.”

"Way to a woman's heart." Octavia grinned, “so you coming?”

“O.”

Octavia’s face fell, “look, I can’t stay, and I don’t want to leave you here. I can only hope Abby and Kane will listen but I can’t force anyone to do anything.”

“Abby and Kane listen?” Raven rolled her eyes, "do you know what it takes to get that to happen?"

“That’s why I don’t want to leave you here,” Octavia admitted, “come with me?”

"We're Just gonna leave them though?"

"It might be the only way to help them," Octavia answered, "if they don't listen to Indra."

"And people say I'm confusing." Raven’s stoic look softened, “Is it far?”

Octavia knew she was asking because of her leg so she stayed non-committal about distance and said, “we’ll figure it out.”

Raven finally nodded, “I don’t want to be locked in that crap-hole bunker so,” she tucked her hands into her jacket pocket, “yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Octavia said, getting up, “so, here’s the plan. Get together whats left of the 100 that will come and have them meet here about midnight. Tell them to keep it secret. But tell them we’re going after Clarke.”

"Wick?"

"Do you think he'll be in?"

"The new flame?” Octavia goaded, “Mr. Stoichiometry? Who says that anyway? I mean, and what the hell is it?”

“Shut up,” Raven glared at her and blushed.

"Shouldn't have told me he said that."

Raven rolled her eyes, "yeah, I think he'd be in."

"Then bring him," Octavia stood up, “we can use all the brains we can get.”

Raven folded her arms, “Hey, I won’t take offense to that.”

Octavia grinned at her. She changed the subject, “so where’s Bellamy so I can fill him in? I can’t find him.”

"Bell?" Raven answered, “he's probably up at that damn mountain.”


	16. On Dangerous Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leona kom Trikru is a hothead, the reps of the 12 Clans are starting to quarrel, and there is a 4'th new Heda on the horizon.

The one called Leona was a fierce warrior. At sixteen, the girl with flat, ash brown hair had twice as many kill marks. Her footwork was infallible in the arena, and she seemed very nearly ready to kill every sparring partner before she could get a grip on her bloodlust. That might be a fault, Indra thought. She watched as Leona sent her most recent opponent crashing into the dust of the floor with a flash of her blade to his knee guards. Ash brown hair flew out as she whirled, crushed the man’s throat under her heel and then reached in and jerked him up by his shirt-

“Pleni!” Indra shouted to her, stopping the girl’s madness before she really killed him. She started walking to where the girl was.

The girl dropped her opponent who quickly picked himself up and was fast to remove himself from the arena floor. Leona turned to Indra as she arrived, looking expectantly defiant, “well?” she asked, "good enough?"

Indra looked her up and down. The eyes were the same. The posture was the same. The height was the same and the trikru girl’s body was fit and in shape. The attitude was also very nearly the same. Indra narrowed her eyes anyway, “not yet.” The girl’s lust for blood on a battlefield was a good thing, but among friends, it was too dangerous. Indra started walking away from her.

Leona chased after her, “why? You told me to stop.”

Indra turned, “go help get the branches into the carts.”

Leona looked confused, “a punishment? I don’t understand. I did what you asked.”

Indra stepped in and explained her order, “I told you never to question me.”

Leona stiffened, sheathed her sword, turned and stormed away.

Indra rolled her eyes closed. Just an hour before, just before dark fell outside, she had also sent Allegany away very much the same. Both girls were challenging. If the situation was different, choosing between the two in just a few days would be hard. Both girls were so much like Leksa had been.

“You’re training them.” Kaia’s voice at her shoulder stated. Indra, to her surprise and disdain, hadn’t heard her subordinate approach. Still she grunted, “yes.”

“Its after dark.”

“So what.” Indra grumbled, “the enemy doesn’t care what time it is.”

“Is training them wise?” Kaia looked at her.

“We could need them.” Indra replied. She glanced at Kaia, “what do you want?”

“They wouldn’t hold the meeting for us.” Kaia answered.

Indra nodded once. She resisted the urge to rub the back of her neck, and the night was still young. She waited for Kaia to leave first, knowing she was going back to the meeting. A minute or so later she left the arena as well. Outside she passed the two girls, whom, under the lamplight, were both helping to clear at least some of the branches from the streets before the city was buried  under them because she knew the people were going to just keep adding more them. Glumly she noticed they were not putting effort in to help each other, “branwadas..” she muttered lowly under her breath in a tone they would not hear.

She made her way to the capitol building, went up the steps and went inside to the lower room where the nightly meeting was being held. Inside the door of the room she saw Kaia had already arrived back, if still on her feet, leaning into the full table or representative and generals from the 12 Clans. The only one who was not there was Kanor of the Wasgroun. Kaia’s words were challenging and directed at General Penn, “We have asked many times but your warriors keep crossing our borders!”

Penn was also on his feet, “lies! We have been at peace with the Trikru for years. We would not challenge that!”

Kaia’s eyes shifted over him icily, “my reports say you have.”

“My reports,” Penn began, pressing his hands into the table as well, “say you plan on giving shelter to the Skaikru.”

That caught Indra’s interest. She moved into the room. As she did everyone looked at her and quiet fell. She moved to her chair, pulled it out, sat and pushed her legs out in front of her, “so, you do have people in my land?”

“I just said I did not.” Penn lifted his chin.

“But yet you know I’ve offered the Skaikru sanctuary?” she asked back, coldly.

It seemed, in that minute, that everyone around that table shifted uncomfortably. Penn was still on his feet, staring. Indra held his gaze.

At last Penn stood back, “the Skaikru have been _nothing_ but trouble from the start. Without them, the Heda would not have made such poor choices-”

Luna, whom had been amazingly patient until then, finally snapped, “Heda was only able to get close to the mountain because of them!”

“And she is dead.” Linden, of the pale-skinned crafty Sheidgeda, rose up and called out. He slammed his ice colored hands into the table, “and we have yet to find the next Heda. The Spirit did not pick at the Jus Tri! My people wonder, what if it was because we allowed Wanheda to have the body instead of hanging its bones from the Tri! But Indra allowed it!” he motioned to her.

Indra shifted her eyes over him coldly, “Our law allowed it and you _know_ it.”

“Shof op, Linden,” General Aneth, who sat beside her, shuffled her long light brown curls back and grunted in soft amusement, “Wanheda has been seen riding a horse near the camp. My warriors say they saw her.”

Indra rolled her eyes, “impossible.” She growled.  The Skai girl would not risk it.

“It is possible.” Aneth challenged back. She looked around the table before adding, “some of my people think the Spirit of the Commander went into Wanheda.”

Indra lowered her hand to the table and looked at Aneth, “you suggest Heda’s spirit went into a Skai girl?”

“No,” Aneth looked at her coldly, “I suggest it went into Wanheda. We should find her and test her.”

“Wanheda felled that Mountain,” Penn injected, “if we bring her back here, we bring death to us.”

Indra ignored Penn and challenged Aneth, “She is a Skai girl.”

“She _was_ a Skai girl.” Aneth confirmed, "was not your former second?"

Indra stared at her and reminded, “we have two –very viable- potentials right here in the city walls and a third is on the-”

“-there is a fourth,” a breathy voice interrupted. Indra turned –as did everyone else- to see Kanor of the Wasgraun pushing his way, out of breath through the door. Out of breath as if he had run all the way from the gate he moved to his place at the table and leaned over it a second to breathe, “there is a fourth potential. My people report there is a boy in the Dead Zone,” he said. Indra shifted to sit up quickly, hearing that. So did everyone else. A boy. But she said nothing as Kanor continued, “he says nothing. He won’t give his name he won’t let us go near him. But he is working his way toward Polis slaying everything in his path. He will not sleep, he will not stop killing,” Kanor looked around the table at each of them before adding, “and all he keeps yelling about is the Wanheda at his city.”


	17. Maybe I'm Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke face off, resorting to name calling and hard truth..

Clarke must be out of paper. She was drawing on the floor. Seated at the table Lexa could not stop watching her.

To the Skaikru, she was Clarke Griffin. To her Trikru, she had been Klark gon Skaikru. Then, after the events of the Mountain, she became Wanheda to everyone.

But if only they could see her now, drawing on the floor with such beautiful abandon.

The bandages felt hotter than usual and a little sticky. They had just changed them; Lexa shifted her gaze to the jar of primrose oil. Even in anger, Clarke had rubbed it so gently into each inch of her tortured skin. The cuts were closing. The puncture Clarke had put in her chest was going to take a little longer. Lexa rubbed it a little through the bandages, after the cleaning, it felt inflamed and stung. She looked back over at Clarke in time to see her shift onto her feet and continue her drawing up onto the wall, drawing lines one after the other from the ceiling to the floor. The candlelight made her sunshine hair glow and Lexa felt her breath grow shorter when she remembered what it felt like to finally slide her hands over Clarke’s warm skin, to finally have the touch of those soft pink lips at her throat. Clarke made her feel human. She made her feel like she was someone other than the Heda of 12 Clans. Clarke had been able to see her under her war paint. No one else dared argue with her. No one challenged her, like Clarke did. No one angered her, like Clarke did. No one else had been able to make her heart beat again. And because of all of that, no one else on Earth scared Lexa more than Clarke Griffin did.

Clarke had taken her from the Jus Tri.

She could remember very little about that. But she did remember looking up from the chains and seeing the stark fear in her blue eyes. Lexa would have done anything, killed anyone, to spare Clarke from having to find her like that. Clarke was starting to fill in lines she had drawn on the wall, turning them into trunks of trees and a small smile tugged at the edge of Lexa’s lips when she realized Clarke was drawing a symbol of life on the walls of a tomb.

“You’re staring, Lexa.” The scratching of charcoal suddenly stopped. Clarke turned to stare at her.

Lexa answered, “I am.”

Clarke just studied her for a second before saying, “you’re impossible, you know?”

Lexa used the table to shift up to her feet and gave voice to her earlier thoughts, “you’re infuriating.”

“You’re arrogant.”

“You’re stubborn.”

Clarke grunted and rolled her head a bit, “you can be a real bitch.”

Lexa answered, “So can you.”

“Lexa?”

“Clarke?”

Clarke looked away, “nothing.” She answered and turned to go back to her drawing.

The name calling had stopped.  “No,” Lexa spoke up anyway. She moved her eyes over Clarke, “there was something. Speak true.”

Clarke turned back around. The piece of coal dropped from her hand. Her mouth opened as though she was trying to plan her words. At last she said, “I just want you to live.”

Lexa studied her a second. She felt her throat tighten a little as she realized this was a conversation they were _always_ going to have; “I can’t chose you over them.”

“I never asked that, Lexa.” Clarke stated, looking up and down her bandaged body. She came close then and got into Lexa’s space, “I only said, I want you to live.”

“Yes, you did. The coalition is breaking,” Still that tightness in her throat increased as she searched Clarke’s eye and explained, “I accepted their decision to put me on the tree. I went there myself.”

Clarke stared at her. As realization dawned that it had been a voluntary choice, “why?”

“They needed a Heda who was not a Traitor to save the coalition. Staying alive denies them that.”

She saw the moment Clarke finally understood why she kept saying she could not choose her over them. She saw the way it broke over her face. Clarke’s mouth dropped open a little, “but they love you, Lexa. When I arrived in Polis so many of them threw rocks at me. They love you.”

Lexa swallowed the thickness that suddenly clogged her throat, “not enough of them.  The variance was just a handful of people, but the numbers did not lie. I went to the Tri for the choice I made at the mountain. I live for them Clarke,” she said, “and one day, one way or another, I will die for them.”

Clarke studied her then for several seconds. Lexa watched her back. She watched Clarke swallow with some difficultly, “do you regret it?” Clarke asked, hitting Lexa with hard, shining eyes, “the deal at the mountain? Even knowing what it’s done?”

“No.”

Clarke took a broken step back. Lexa tried to step forward but forgot she couldn’t quite walk yet on her own, and shame flashed over her face as she caught herself quickly before she fell by grabbing the edge of the table. Clarke’s hands were around her shoulders, helping her balance. Lexa tried to hide the fierce red coloring her face as she pulled herself together and looked at Clarke. Clarke let her go again. Lexa continued, “I had a chance to save hundreds of lives, Clarke, so I took it.” The silence that came next over Clarke’s face might have killed her. Lexa stood there wishing Clarke to just say something; anything… there was too much hardness in Clarke’s eyes.

Finally Clarke moved. She picked up the charcoal she had dropped on the floor and put it on the table near them.  She turned to Lexa, “if your coalition is breaking your people need you.”

Lexa hadn’t been expecting the change of subject. But maybe she should have been.  She would honor Clarke’s wishes and not continue the topic of the Mountain, “the next commander-”

“I didn’t say anything about the next commander.” Clarke countered, “I said they needed _you_. You built it, yes?”

“Yes.” Lexa said. She studied Clarke’s face. She studied her lips specifically. She moved her eyes up to Clarke’s and lowered her tone, “but is this just about them?” She couldn’t quite form the three words, ‘or us too?’ This was one time she felt herself hoping that Clarke would say no.

But Clarke bit her lips together like she did when she was confused and not sure what to say. Then she turned and walked to where the water was and Lexa knew the conversation was done. She watched as Clarke washed the black from the coal off her hands. Clarke moved toward the furs and started removing her shirt. Lexa adverted her eyes quickly, and stared at the table as Clarke started pulling off her borrowed clothes. Then the rustling stopped and Clarke spoke, “Lexa?” Lexa glanced over to find she had changed back into the over-large shirt. Clarke looked at the furs and then back at her, “you should come to bed.”

Lexa was surprised at the invitation back into her bed. But then, there was nowhere else for either of them to sleep. So she said nothing. She took the invitation for what it was and used the table to push to her feet. Clarke was there, reaching for her hand. A new wash of shame flooded Lexa as she let Clarke help her across the room and down into the furs. Clarke went back to the table and blew out the candle. Lexa scooted down onto her back in the dark; aware of Clarke stepping over her, aware of her slipping into the space between herself and the wall, aware painfully of the small space Clarke left between them and aware of her pulling the warm layers of furs over both of their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter inspired by "Angel" by Theory of a Deadman


	18. No Calm before a Storm

Bellamy had been on the mountain.

But she had urged him to come home. Because she could not tell him anything up there.

He was pacing his quarters, back and forth; Octavia sat on the table and watched him. The room was too quiet. The air too tense. After a minute or two of this he looked at her, “no.”

She stared at him in shock, “But Bellamy..”

“So your Heda is dead? I can't say ..I can't say I don't think she deserves it.” Bellamy backed up as though to get some space between them, “she, _used_ us Octavia. She used us to get close to the Mountain Men, then she cut and run.”

“Bellamy…” Octavia said more softly, she tried again, “okay, okay, so Heda betrayed you. But what about Clarke? You just want to leave her out there?” Octavia motioned to the door.

For a second she saw something, a touch of compassion, and a touch of the brother she knew flash through his eyes as he stopped his pacing. Then he decided, “She ran out on us too. She went to find her little Grounder girlfriend.”

“Bell!” Octavia countered, “Clarke's heart would break if she heard you say that.” She had to stop herself from including that Clarke hadn’t gone after Heda. At least not at first. At least, that is not where Octavia had first caught sight of her when she finally picked up her trail in the woods for Indra.

“Look,” he said, “I will help get these people to Tondc, but I won’t stay there. Or, I will help them get to the Mountain, whatever Abby and Kane decides to do. Because right now, it looks like those are our only choices since we don’t have anyone’s _lives_ to bargain with this time. Or, I will stay and fight here with them if Grounders attack us. But I am not going to help you help your Grounder friends anymore.”

“I never said this had anything to do with the Trikru.” Octavia challenged. She purposely hadn’t brought that up yet, nor had she brought up anything about Heda actually surviving the damn tree, and right now she was glad she hadn’t. And it hurt because she knew at one time she would have told him everything without fail. It hurt because she realized she had withheld those things from him because their trust in each other was starting to slip. Saying nothing, Octavia felt the burn of tears threaten under her eyelids at this realization. But she swallowed them down hard because she would be damned if she let them fall. Her care in this, wasn't so much about Lexa for any other reason than she was her Heda, but her biggest concern was for the Trikru and how this could break them. But Bellamy wouldn’t understand that either, right now.  He was angry.  He was so terribly angry.  And she knew he had _every_  damn right to be. She was too. She just couldn't get away with it.

“You didn't have to," he was saying, "I know you Octavia. It always does.”

“Okay, fine,” She admitted, glaring at him, “there is some other shit going on. But Lincoln and I-”

“Lincoln?” he folded his arms even tighter, “okay, lets talk Lincoln." Bellamy leaned into her shoulder and added, “He used me to get more of his damn drug. Then also cut and run. And the girl that was actually brave enough to help me instead of him, I helped kill her in return for her effort.”

Octavia felt her breath stop, angrily, inside her, and watched as her brother turned away from her went out the door and went out, leaving her in that room.

She kicked the chair in front of her out from under the table in frustration after he left. It crashed to the floor. Finally, the tears streamed down her face. But she wiped them away as she got down from the table. By the time she made the corridor outside the room one could even tell they were there. Posted guards shied away from her as she went up the corridor and made it to the outside.

As she stormed across the cold yard in the dead of the night heading toward the shop she was actually surprised to see Raven come up to her side, “well?” Raven asked, moving fast as she could to keep pace with Octavia. As Raven glanced back to the door, “I just saw Bell come out. He didn’t look so happy. Actually, he kind of looked like you do now.”

Octavia slowed her pace, just a bit, for Raven’s sake, “he isn’t coming,” she stated flatly.

“Jasper isn’t either.” Raven said, “but then—I mean.. he did really good in that mountain.. Kept them all hanging on. And then-”

“Its okay.” Octavia answered, "I hadn't expected Jasper would."

“There’s only going to be six of us Octavia. Most all the others who survived the Mountain just won’t come. After what they went through,” Raven inhaled and glanced over at her, “they aren’t ready. I tested the waters without mentioning Clarke to them because I didn’t want them feeling guilty on top. So many of them just aren’t ready...”

“Who’s coming?” Octavia asked, they were nearing their destination; more guards and Ark civilians were quick to move out of her way.

“You, me, Monty, Harper and Wick and Miller.” Raven answered as they came to her shop.

“That is good.” Octavia answered, and she meant it. Smaller numbers were better. She and Raven entered the shop.

Harper, Monty and Miller all stood up. Wick was already standing in a corner. Raven stopped with Octavia in the door. There was tense silence a minute as they all looked at her and she looked back at them. After a second of dealing with it Wick spoke up, “so, what’s up?”

“Okay here’s the deal, or at least the parts I can tell you now.” Octavia began. She and Raven entered the room.

“Wait, the parts you can tell us, _now_?” Monty asked in surprised. He motioned to Raven, “she said we’re going after Clarke.”

”We are.” Octavia answered him. She looked around to include the rest of them, “but this is bigger than you think and it does include working with the Trikru. Straight up, some of them I _know_ for sure you won’t like. But it also includes the other Clans. If you want out right now I won’t stop you. But if not, you’re going to have to trust me and you are going to have to do exactly as I say, or we’re all dead. Not just us, everyone in this camp no matter where they go.”

Silence came after that. Octavia shifted her gaze around each of them. She knew what they were thinking; they were all thinking of Clarke, “You know she’d do it for us, guys. She has."

Harper first that nodded, “okay, whatever it is, I’m in.”

Octavia was surprised. She knew this particular girl had suffered badly at the hands of the mountain men, “thank you.”

Harper nodded, she turned to stand by Octavia and Raven, “Clarke didn’t have any choice what happened up there.” Harper looked around at the others.

“Okay, I’m in too.” Monty replied, sliding over to where they stood.

“Thanks.” Octavia said to him emphatically. She knew that he and Jasper were struggling badly, not just with their friendship but also each in their own way over what had been done.

Wick grunted and stuffed his hands in his pockets; “I’m already in.” he nodded toward Raven, “someone said we need all the brains we can get.”

“Okay, good.” Octavia said, looking over at Miller whom had grown silent and was leaned back against the wall.  He was the last one.  She asked, “and you?”

To be honest, he seemed the most reluctant. But she knew about his dad and the gaurd. He rubbed at his face. Finally he nodded, “okay, me too. For Clarke.”

“So what’s the plan?” Monty asked.

“You have all heard about Heda, right?” Octavia asked them. She was pretty certain it would spread through the camp like wildfire in the forest. She hadn’t asked Kane or Abby to keep it a secret, because it surely wasn’t. The all nodded. Harper spoke up, “yeah, and I guess the camp is in danger again?”

“Seems like something of a broken record, I know,” Octavia answered, “but such is life on Earth. Anyway, so the plan is this. We get these people to where ever Abby and Kane want them to go to. Then we get you guys some Horses and go on from there.”

Miller asked, “what if they don’t want to go anywhere? It’s been known to happen.”

Octavia inhaled and glanced at him, “we go anyway.”

“We’re just going to leave them?” Monty asked, as though he was having second thoughts on it now. Octavia heaved out a sigh, “okay,” she said, “look, I know they are your family and friends, I get that. But if Kane and Abby decide they are not going anywhere, the best chance this camp is going to have, will be with us not being here. That way we can save them instead of being trapped with them. So, last chance now if you want out, anyone? Monty?” she looked over at him.

He took a second. She could see the tug of war going on in his head. It was written all over his face. Then he shifted, “no, I said I’d go.”

“Then here’s the plan,” she started again, “we get these people safe. Then we get some horses and ride on. We are heading to a City – no, not the City of Light,” she cut off before anyone could ask, right as Miller stepped forward as though he was just about to. He stepped back to his place against the wall. Octavia finished, “we are going to Heda’s Capitol. Polis.”

“Do you know for sure?” Wick asked, shrugging, “I mean, hey? For all we know the Grounder Captiol Polis _is_  the City of Light.”

“It’s an amazing place, yes,” Octavia admitted, “but I don’t know about it being-”

“Wait, Clarke is at the Grounder Capitol?” Harper finally got in. That was when they suddenly all had the very same look on their faces, as that connotation sank in.

“She was,” Octavia began.

“But she’s not anymore.” Raven supplied for her.

Octavia went on, “but Indra,” she saw their faces change a little as they shifted to look at each other and then back at her at the mention of the Grounder General’s name. It made Octavia have to clarify, “yes, that Indra, and Lincoln and some others are there who will help us and, until we get to them,” Octavia finished, “I am not even sure what the rest of the plan is.”

“You don’t know the whole plan? This is great.” Wick asked, not sounding too surprised.

Octavia gave a soft amused snort and looked around at all of them, “believe it or not guys, I’m kinda winging this. It was a last minute thing that’s exploded all over the place. Everyone involved kind of is. Really messy.”

“Great.” Raven said next to her, “messy is good. So let’s go.” She took a step forward.

“We’re going to have to wait on Abby and Kane, but they have to have an answer for me by the morning. And then,” Octavia said to all of them, “then we go.”


	19. Where it Hurts

_She had the knife up her sleeve and fear in her throat. As Clarke wove her way through the camp full of grounders her heart was racing so fast in her chest she was sure that they all could hear it. Her stomach twisted sickly at how excited they all looked for the night to begin. They took notice of her, of course, but none of them tried to stop her. At least she earned their Commander’s respect enough for that. That was, they did not try and stop her until she reached the tent. Clarke felt the tip of Indra’s sword sink into her flesh just under her ribs causing a small pool of blood to form on her shirt, “I need to speak with your Commander,” Clarke stated. What she was actually saying, in so many words was; I have come to beg for his life…_

_Indra snarled and glanced at the tent behind her and pulled her sword away. The tent flaps open. Dante Wallace stepped out of the tent, his shirt soaked in blood. In confusion she started to take a step back not sure what she was seeing. More blood dripped from Wallace’s mouth as he turned and said, “let her pass.”_

_She looked up. For some reason she was expecting Finn’s frightened face but it was her dad they were bringing down the hillside-_

 Clarke tossed over in the furs onto her stomach. Her breaths turned into short gasps in the dark.

_“This isn’t right.” Clarke whispered, she looked around the dining room at all the people, contentedly eating their meals, to the soft music playing in the background. She looked down at her own clean, pastel colored clothes. Jasper and Monty sat across the linen covered table from her, shoveling cake into their mouths. It seemed to familiar. She tried to get their attention. Leaning across the table she whispered quickly, “we shouldn’t be here.”_

_“Hey, you should try this cake, Clarke.” Jasper grinned over at her, nudging at Monty as he did, “This is great!”_

_“Something’s wrong,” she countered, “I’m not eating their food.” The conversation was eerily familiar._

_“Suit yourself.” Monty told her, shoveling another bite into his mouth with his fork. The fork shone brightly in the overhead artificial lights causing her to notice the small lump of burned red flesh on his hand, “what’s that?” she demanded, grabbing his hand toward her. But it was too late. In front of her eyes the red lump grew and started to rapidly spread._

_Two seconds later both he and Jasper were screaming in agony on the white table cloth as their skin disintegrated from radiation, she threw back her chair and could only watch as they struggled and shouted, twitched and twisted before dying in pain. Around them, everyone else just kept smiling and dining.._

Clark flung herself back onto her back, her shouts echoing off the walls of the tomb..

“Klark!” Lexa’s voice shouted at her, “Klark, wake up!” _Clarke looked up in the dark to see Lexa’s form as a shadow over her, lean and beautiful. Clarke grabbed up for her quickly, pulled her down against her and held her tightly, seeking warmth and safety, “Lexa..” she exhaled, “Lexa..” but Lexa shifted up and warm drops of liquid started dripping onto Clarke’s face. Clarke looked up to see Lexa’s face was bleeding, in ribbons blood ran and dripped off her skin. Lexa just smiled at her, then quick as a flash shock and fear mixed into a horrible ball in Clarke’s stomach as Lexa yanked her hair back and slammed her knife up against Clarke's throat.._

“Klark!”

Hands were shaking her. Clarke woke up drenched in sweat with Lexa above her in the dark. Peppermint-smelling curls tumbled into her face and Clarke scrambled backward from her fast as she could. But Lexa tightened an arm at Clarke’s middle to stop her and pulled herself up Clarke again, pinning her under her. Clarke’s struggles stopped when calloused but gentle fingers slid down her face and started smoothing up and down gently over her temple, her cheek and back again. The gentle caress slowed Clarke’s breath and she glanced up into Lexa’s worried green eyes. There was no blood. There was no knife. Just Lexa above her, softly stroking her face. Clarke felt her heart start to calm down and her muscles start to slowly relax. That was when she realized how tightly she was holding onto Lexa’s arms. She loosened her death grip a little, but she didn’t let go, “Lexa?” she gasped up at the girl holding her.

Lexa nodded slowly, “it was just a terrible dream, Klark.” She said in the dark. Then she said the familiar words, “you’re safe,” as she continued the little motions onto Clarke’s forehead, smoothing back sweat-soaked strands of hair, "you're safe here."

Clarke let her eyes flutter close with those words, “my dad,” she tried to speak, but the words felt choked as the memory of the dream flashed again, “you …they.. they were putting him on the post ..like Finn.”

“It never happened,” Lexa breathed, carding her fingers gently through Clarke’s hair, “not to your father.”

“You were going to kill me.” Clarke whispered up, she could still feel the warm, dripping blood. She opened her eyes to see Lexa’s close to hers.

“I could never do that.” Lexa whispered intensely back, as her hand smoothed softly back down the side of Clarke’s face. The little patterns were soothing and warm, almost hot. Clarke’s eyes widened a little as realization hit her. Lexa’s hands were too hot.

“Lexa?” Clarke said, trapping one of them in hers. Clarke sat up.

Lexa sat back nearly as fast and grew still.

Dropping Lexa’s hand Clarke reached out and put a hand to her forehead instead. Clarke felt the heat and the sweat there and her eyes widened in the dark, “you’re burning up!” she shot off their bed, “Lexa, why didn’t you tell me?” Clarke went quickly to the table and lit the candle.

“You we’re screaming, Clarke.” Lexa answered, matter-of-fact about it she shifted back to sit.

Clarke stacked another piece of wood on the glowing red coals in the tray. As infant flames licked at it she quickly got one of the metal bowls and started to warm up water in it, “you have a fever.” She said, glancing back at Lexa. Taking some clean rags from one of the bags she went back to Lexa and knelt. Slowly Clarke started to unwrap the bandages from around Lexa’s chest. As she did Lexa tipped her head back a little for Clarke to see. As the healing skin was revealed so was the puncture Clarke was looking for. Sure enough, as it was uncovered it was angry and red. Clarke sat back a little, looked up at Lexa, and gently pressed her fingers to the spot. Liquid drained at the edges, “fuck,” Clarke cursed, “its infected.” How?  It had been healing fine. But the fact was …it was a deep puncture wound. All this time anything could have been happening inside..

She got up and went to the bag and found the ointment.

The water had started to boil. Quickly and carefully she pulled it out of the fire. She separated some of the water into another bowl and added some of the peppermint to seep. The rest of the water she took with several sections of clean fabric back to where Lexa was. Clarke knelt, “lay back down.”

Slowly Lexa slid onto her back. Tearing a strip from one of the rags Clarke soaked it in the warm water and started to wash out the wound. She glanced at Lexa every few seconds but she had her eyes closed. Satisfied it was clean enough Clarke opened the jar of ointment and started to smear it gently into the wound. When she was done she closed the jar again and helped Lexa sit. Clarke tore clean strips of bandages and wrapped them back around Lexa’s chest. She sat back, “all done.” In return, all she received was a glance and a quick nod. The angry, embarrassed look was in Lexa’s eyes again. Clarke noticed quietly, but decided not to bring it up, “I’ll get you some tea. It will help bring your fever down.”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa whispered in return, holding her hand over the wound in her chest, and Clarke shifted to her feet and sat up.

She brought the tea back in two separate cups. Setting hers on the floor she climbed back into the furs and looked quietly into Lexa’s face. Clarke knew without saying, Lexa could not close her hands all the way or tightly enough, so she quietly brought the cup to Lexa’s lips, “drink.”

Lexa paused a minute before opening her lips. Very carefully Clarke tipped some of the tea in. Then she pulled the cup back and let Lexa swallow. After a second she said, “you need to take all of it, okay?” After Lexa’s quick nod Clarke held the cup for her again. They did this a few more times until the tea was gone. “There.” Clarke said, she sat back and put the empty cup down. Reaching for her own she drank it quickly, without stopping and put the cup down next to Lexa’s. Lexa however was sitting how she had been and staring bitterly into the dark. Clarke sighed, “Lexa?”

Lexa turned her head, but only a little, “Clarke?”

“I meant what I said,” Clarke promised, “We are going to do everything we can to get your range of motion back.” But she knew, in this kill or be killed culture, mobility was everything. But she also knew that if it didn’t happen for Lexa, that people with disabilities could do so many things, and were amazing at it. Lexa would be fine. But she also knew that Lexa didn’t need to hear that right now. So she didn’t say it.

“I know.” Lexa looked at Clarke at last, “I know, Clarke.”

“Okay,” Clarke said quietly, she shifted then back down into the furs and lay on her back. Lexa laid down beside her. Clarke reached for the furs but thought better of it, Lexa was running a fever and didn’t need added heat. After a second though of quiet. Lexa finally said, “yu nontu, he was in your dream?”

Clarke noticed the trigedasleng, with the fever it concerned her. But the words were calm and not frantic as they had been during the first few days. So she sensed Lexa was only using it because it was her first language she was now calm. She also felt the little ache inside her when she heard the words. Looking up toward the ceiling Clarke replied, “Sha,” glancing at Lexa.

Lexa shifted onto her side to look at her, “ste em..?”

Clarke shifted onto her side as well to look at Lexa, “em ste stedaunon.”

Lexa’s eyes shifted a little, “how?”

“He was executed.” Clarke answered quietly. She inhaled sharply as her mind played that terrible moment at the airlock back in her head again. She felt Lexa’s hand cover hers between them and Clarke glanced over at her and said, “on the Ark, the term for execution was called floating. I guess they thought it sounded nicer. They put you in an airlock, which is a space between two doors. One set of doors that faces inside, into the ark, one set that faces out into space. Then when you are in there and the inside doors are sealed, they open the ones into space.” Clarke shrugged, “you get sucked out. Floated. It's freezing. Air gets sucked out of your lungs. You can’t breathe. You die.” Clarke swallowed thickly and added, “it can take several minutes.”

“It is the tri.” Lexa realized quietly, drawing the comparison. Clarke nodded at her. Lexa asked, “they did this to yu nontu?”

Clarke replied quietly, “Sha.” they were speaking in a mix of their languages, and it felt right, in that quiet.

"Did he kill someone?" Lexa ask next, as though trying to reason it out, "or was it treason?"

“Nou.” Clarke answered. She closed her eyes a second and then opened them again, “all he wanted to do, was tell the truth."

"The truth?" Lexa asked, "they executed a man for the truth?"

Clarke only nodded, "we were running out of air. They thought if he did, it would cause a riot. They were wrong." And not for the first time since landing on earth, looking at Lexa trying to absorb this in the golden light, Clarke had to wonder who was the less savage.  If anyone was.

 


	20. Cloak and Dagger

They were starting to stack branches throughout the great army camp that still encircled Polis like a massive sea of women and men, horses, dogs, campfires and sparring pits. It was how it went. Left by the previous Heda, the army would stay there protecting the city until the new one had been found and dispersed them.

In rotation with other generals, Indra walked the camp perimeter every day. This gray wet morning was none the different. The girl, Allegany, was quietly keeping pace at one side of her while Kaia walked at her right. Like Leona, Allegany too, had the right look. The girl had a shade darker brown hair than Lexa had, kept in hundreds of little braids to the middle of her back, and her build and eye color was right. As was the way she carried herself when she walked. Also, she wasn’t the only one to notice it. Without saying a word Indra noticed how warriors would pause to look at her as she walked through them. But they said nothing, nor did they approach. Anyone who even shifted enough to look as though they might do so Indra shot down with a stiff staying glance if they so much as tried.

This was the first time since their arrival that one of the girls had been brought out of the city. But it was an important part of the transition that could not be ignored. The girls by law were to be subjected to it, to know this army that they believed they one day might lead, to walk among it and learn it inside and out. But in this case, if nothing else, it calmed down the questions starting to grow. The questions that were starting to circulate – where is Heda? It was important that these people see what they wanted to see.

“I have to go back.” Kaia said as they walked.

“Penn?” Indra asked.

“It is clear he won’t stop.” Kaia answered, the angles of her face showed more concern than was in her voice, “I fear for the small villages and towns.”

“Then you should go.” Indra replied.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Later today.”

“General?” Allegany spoke up. It made Indra glance at her. The girl had been taking in the camp, like she should, as she kept pace. But since she had been respectful Indra replied, “yes?”

“Is it true you have offered shelter to the Skaikru?” The girl asked. Her tone was indifferent, and when Indra looked at her, so were her eyes. Indra was pleased about her ability to control her expressions, but the question made her uneasy the same. She nodded once and turned her gaze back over the camp and answered stiffly, “yes.”

“I see.” Allegany answered.

Uncomfortable silence came after that. It lasted several seconds. Then finally Kaia broke it by asking a question, “Allegany, what do you think of the Skaikru?”

And Allegany seemed to be considering it. Indra could not help but watch her carefully. This answer, how ever simply the question had been asked, meant many different things. At last Allegany, watching the camp around them as she walked, like the Heda would have done spoke, “It is hard to say. I know little about them. I’ve heard they are trouble, they caused Heda’s downfall. Maybe caution is appropriate where they are concerned. But decisions about them should be made from what one has seen of them. Not from what someone else has said that you have not witnessed yourself.” Allegany finished by wanting to ask another question, "General Indra?"

“Allegany?”

“Did they really come out of the sky?”

That made Indra stop. It was such a childish question. Allegany stopped where she was and Kaia, for her part, couldn’t hide the smile crossing her face even if she tried. Indra schooled herself quickly to not turn on the girl in retribution. Allegany was from the wodakru, she hadn’t seen them fall from the stars like the trikru had. So Indra gave a short answer, “yes.”

“Wanheda!”

The cry tore from someone’s lips and ripped through the whole wing of the camp, changing the feel of the air, from calm to on edge -instantly.  As warriors brushed past her Indra whirled toward the direction of the call as it came again and then a third time from warriors pushing close together where everyone was running toward and pointing up a ridge. Indra set her jaw, the foolishness ended now. Mud squelched under her boots and Kaia and Allegany both hurried to keep up as she closed the distance and pushed warriors out of her way. They learned to start moving themselves. Indra arrived at the edge of the camp and looked up the direction some were pointing.

Her growl faded from her face as the sight of a blonde on a horse wearing a black cloak and hood turned and dashed away through the trees. Indra’s hand loosened on her sword more out of shock than anything. Everyone else was still whispering. They were running to other wings of the camp. Indra just stared at the spot where the black horse had been standing. Kaia shoved up to her side, "was it her?”

Indra felt suddenly everyone staring at her with just that one question, looking for denial or confirmation. She felt herself start to bristle and the stupidity of the blonde, the sky girl- she had _trusted_. She turned finally and grabbed the reins of the nearest horse, the startled owner pulled back without questioning her. Indra swung up into the saddle, “get inside.” She grumbled down to Allegany.

Indra took off full speed after that black horse. Trees flew past close to each side. But her anger burned hot. She should have known, she should have learned not to trust a sky girl. She should have learned after the last time. The horse jumped logs and ran through streams. It was hard to see anything through the trees. Then Indra saw it, a flash of blonde, through the thick of the trees, and a black horse dashing through sunlight and shadows. “Haah!” she shouted to the horse she had taken, urging it to go faster. The animal couldn’t go any faster though.

But it was fast enough.

Indra caught up with the blonde at the next rise, grabbing her around the neck she pulled her from her horse into the frozen mulch of the forest. Indra slipped from her horse the same time. Both animals danced to a stop. The girl was on her hands and knees scrambling to get up but Indra was faster and grabbed her up by the throat. Spinning her she pinned her to the nearest tree and put a knife to her throat…

But it was not Clarke Griffin.

She was looking into brown eyes, under the black hood of the cloak. Indra ripped the hood back and off of the girl throwing it to the forest floor. False blonde hair fell with it, and the girl’s matted brown hair fell around her face instead. The eyes were filled with fear but remained defiant as Indra observed her. Taking an angry step forward she pushed her blade tighter against the girl’s neck, “who are you?” she snarled. She looked down at the cloak and the wig of blonde hair, “and why do you do this?”

“I am called Echo.” The girl nearly snarled back, “I was hoping it would bring you to me. It did.” Indra was surprised.  For some reason this girl had played her.  But Indra but did not so much as flinch. She had been waiting for this girl. But she hadn’t expected to meet up with her out here. She wrapped her hand not holding her knife tighter around the girl’s throat, “you are the one the Azgeda sent. They think you could be Heda.” She didn’t hide the doubt in her voice as she flashed her eyes over the girl’s pale face, “I think they’re wrong.”

“So you think,” Echo nodded, “but I know they are wrong.”

That surprised Indra as well. But she still didn’t move her hand, “then why are you here?”

“Because the boy I am sure you have heard about by now in the Dead Zone? He is Ice Nation as well disguising himself as wasgroun, he is the one they send.” The brown eyes lit up, “he is not Heda either.”

Indra finally pulled back her knife, but she did not put it away, “why are you telling me this?” she asked, "and how do you know?"

“Because I have seen him.  He does not do what Heda should do.  Heda does not kill for no reason. I think people are just desperate and letting his bloodshed slip. And I am telling you because of the Skaikru. I met them in the mountain when we were locked in cages. They are brave, General, if childish sometimes. You know them. You trust them.” The girl said, and Indra couldn’t help but snort, because she would not go that far. Still she said, “Go on.”

”They helped me in the Mountain. So now I will help you. And that boy in the Dead Zone, his name is Okan, and he is definitely a threat. Something has changed him.  He is different now than the boy I knew.”

Indra finally put her knife away, “impersonating the Wanheda is a serious offense. You could be sent to a tri for it. The camp is restless." She snarled, "All because of your _foolishness_.”

“I know they are searching the woods for Waheda.” Echo answered, “General,” she said, “I am too. Maybe we will find her. If the Spirit went to anyone, it went into her.” Echo’s eyes softened then as she studied Indra’s face and said, “Heda and Wanheda were friends once, close allies. It would make sense.”

“That ended at the mountain.” Indra answered.  But now people were searching the woods…

Echo nodded, “everything,” she said, she reflected with a quiet burn to her voice, “everything ended at the mountain.”

Everything ended at the Mountain.

There might not have been many words these days, truer than that.

Indra, finally, decided to move back, just a step, just enough to gather the reins of her horse, “come with me.” She said at last, taking the girl’s foolish disguise from the forest floor Indra shoved it into her coat and swung up onto her horse. Echo stood frozen a minute then finally asked, “where are we going?”

“Just get on your horse.” She grumbled.

Echo swung up on her horse.

“We are circling the long way around. I don’t want anyone to see you like this. We are going to go back to Polis,” she explained as they started away at a walk.

“General?” Echo asked, riding her horse up to pace at Indra’s side, asking without asking for an explanation as to why.

Indra looked over at her and elaborated, “you will continue to act as though you might be one chosen by the Spirit, and you won’t speak of anything we have discussed out here. Do you understand?”

“Sha.” Echo agreed.

“And if you do that,” Indra said, looking over at her, “I might be able to spare your life.”

“Okay.” Echo agreed, this time with a little more surprise in her voice, “I can do it.”

Nothing else was said between the two as they continued, the long way around, back to the city.


	21. Transitions

Outside dawn was just breaking. Inside the counsel room it was very quiet. Abby sat across from Kane. Since Octavia arrived, they had turned every corner of the situation over the best they could. Each time, it led only to one option.

Still, sitting there in the room of what was left of the giant structure of the Ark that had been responsible for keeping them alive for so long it was a hard call to make. Abby finally asked, “are you sure this is what we want to do?”

“I don’t see how we have a choice.” Kane answered, “You saw their numbers. If Grounders swarm this place, this time, we don’t have a way to stop them. We have to leave.”

Abby nodded and folded her arms, “and we don’t have the numbers to fight them off. Everyone here will die.”

“Yes.” Kane answered.

“Okay,” Abby sat back in her chair, “let her in.”

Marcus went up and went to the door. Octavia had arrived some time ago, but was willing to wait on the other side. The door slid open and, with folded arms, she stepped inside, “well?” she asked, looking at them both, “what’s it gonna be?”

Abby inhaled, “we need to leave Camp Jaha.”

Octavia seemed surprised, as though she had been expecting them to say something else. She looked between the two of them, “good,” she said, “so where?”

“The mountain is out.” Kane replied, “After what happened in there, too many people won’t go back.”

“Yeah, well,” Octavia rubbed the back of her neck, “that’s what kind of happens when you get your bones drilled.” Her tone was dry. She looked between them both, “so you will go to Tondc?”

“We’d like to try it on a temporary basis, first.” Abby answered finally.

Seeing the look of surprise on Octavia’s face Kane quickly added, “I think it would give us, and them, both a chance to adjust to see if it is going to work. We will help in a fight if it comes to it, and pull our weight while we are there. I am sure they are still rebuilding.” He glanced toward Abby before looking back at Octavia, knowing this was a touchy subject for her, “we would like to help with that.”

“Okay.” Octavia answered, though clearly not thrilled with this, “but here’s the thing. I can’t say or not if those terms are okay. That isn’t my call. But I can get you in, and we will see.”

“Thank you, Octavia.” Kane replied, smiling at her.

“Yeah.” She answered, “So, you got a few hours to get everyone to pack up, bury your guns, remember, no tech. Then we move.” She shifted to turn and leave.

“Wait!” Abby called; there was an undertone of desperation in her voice that made Octavia turn. Abby was quiet a second and then finally pled, “can you please tell me about Clarke?”

Kane shifted his eyes between the two, “I’ll go get everyone up.” He said, leaving the room.

The air stayed tense. Abby stayed still. So did Octavia. At last Octavia spoke, “she’s okay, Dr. Griffin. She is …different. But I think…” Octavia seemed to consider what she was going to say for a minute before finishing, “I think you would be proud.”

Abby got up, “I want to see her, Octavia.” Tears barely checked in her eyes.

“I don’t know when that will be.” Octavia answered truthfully. Her eyes took Abby in a second longer before she turned and left the room.

\--==--

A campsite for the Trikru, when not wanting to be found, included just a small fire that was easily stamped out.

Over the past days since this had started, he had moved several times, as he kept vigil over this section of forest. The first couple days it had seemed empty of anyone except himself. He supposed people were in too much shock. And then they started mourning. They started coming into the forest and taking branches from the trees. Twice now, a group had drifted too close to the spot he was specifically guarding. But both times each of those groups had been diverted easily enough away from the cemetery, a stone being thrown in the forest the direction you wanted someone to look echoed a long way.

So Lincoln was not surprised when he made it back to the site of his camp after completing his first rotation that morning, that Indra dropped out of the trees in front of him, “where is she?” She said without prelude, a stony look on her face. He had mentioned to her where his camps would be. It would just be a matter of finding the right one. Apparently, she had.

“North,” he answered, letting his eyes slide that direction just far enough for her to notice it, “not far from here.” He knew where this was going. There were too many people in this section of woods to be safe.

“We have to move them.” Indra said, “farther from the city. Today.”

“I know a place,” Lincoln answered, “west of here. It will take a few hours to reach.”

“And if we had horses?”

“That is by horse.” He offered back. It was the smallest window of travel time possible. They would already be running the risk of being seen. It made him ask, “Should we wait for the night?”

“Then we risk the Sheidgeda.” Indra reminded him. “They see better at night than _anyone_ sees in the day. Another prospective Heda has arrived from the north. She is in the city now and is a good distraction. We should move right now, while everyone is preoccupied with her.”

Lincoln nodded. But he was sure he felt his throat close off. For a second there was nothing. The forest was so still. Finally he asked, “How is this going to end, Indra?”

Indra’s stony face shifted for only a second. Then she lifted her chin and answered stiffly, “I don’t know.”

Lincoln nodded, because he didn’t know either.

“Wait here,” Indra instructed, “I will get horses. Meet back here in an hour.” Indra told him, and then she pushed past him, and within minutes was gone.


	22. Scared Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..so the last draft of this chapter I posted was just that - a draft I posted by mistake. Here is a cleaned up version if you would like. I hope to have the next chapter out today. Have a good day/night everyone.

 

"Lexa," Clarke tugged off bandages, fast as she could.  The heat from Lexa's skin woke her, not the morning.  Lexa was fading in and out of delirium, the bandages trapped heat.  Clarke ripped the last one loose and started slathering Lexa with icy water.  The puncture had started oozing.  This fever was from it. Clarke washed at it quickly but they had to cauterize it, "Lexa? Lexa wake up!"

Eyes opened weakly and her name cracked from Lexa's lips, “Klark?” 

“Okay, stay awake..” Clarke gently put Lexa onto the furs and then ran toward the fire. She pulled the bone handled knife from it. The blade glowed horribly red and even the handle itself was hot. She went back to Lexa and knelt again. Lexa had listened and was awake. Her skin was quivering from a mixture of fever and being exposed to the cold and Clarke knelt near her and trailed her fingers gently down her face, “ready?”

Lexa nodded and ran her tongue over dry lips, “do it..” she lay back and held her breath.

“Okay,” Clark exhaled, and looked down at the flushed girl. She’d done this before, she told herself, God, she’s done this before. Clarke put her free arm gently across Lexa’s shoulders to keep her still, worked her fingers on the handle of the knife nervously a little, then quickly brought it forward and pressed the hot blade against the wound. Lexa did shout out, just once, her body also jerked once as she did. But she stilled just as suddenly, every muscle locked and tense, and shuddered so softly as Clarke kept the red-hot knife on her skin, “shh..” she begged. She didn’t know if she was talking more to herself or Lexa, “shhh . .its okay.” Clarke glanced down at Lexa’s face, her head was thrown back and he could almost hear the grind of her teeth in her mouth. Clarke released her quickly, and tossed the blade away, “that’s it,” she said, pulling Lexa’s head up into her lap and brushed back sweaty hair from her face.

Lexa exhaled, drawing in deep breaths and releasing them just as fast. Still shuddering she winced a little and cracked open green eyes. She worked her lips as though to try and speak but closed them before she could. Clarke knotted their fingers together, “just rest. I’m-”

\-- there was a loud pounding at the metal door. It echoed through the room, startling Clarke. Lexa’s eyes snapped open and dashed toward the noise too, she shifted and pushed to her elbows as Clarke quietly moved away just a little and got ready to stand up.

“Clarke it’s me!” Lincoln’s voice called.

“Lincoln...” Clarke exhaled. She looked down as she saw Lexa struggling to sit.

“You don’t have to.” Clarke told her, “its only Lincoln.”

“I do.” Lexa’s voiced dryly, not from sarcasm, Clarke sensed as she looked over her, but from pain.

Clarke felt herself grating inside with a touch of annoyance but rather than have Lexa hurt herself she moved some furs and put them under her back so, if not sitting, she was at least halfway propped up. Clarke covered Lexa’s body up to her shoulders with a fur and Lexa rolled her eyes closed, and swallowed just a little then nodded, "okay."

“Clarke!” Lincoln shouted.

Clarke turned, not wanting to meet Lincoln half-naked in nothing but his shirt –again- she grabbed up the pants she had been wearing the night before and pulled them on as she dashed up the stairs. Clarke closed the laces as she got to the door, unlocked it and pulled in inward, “Lincoln!” she threw herself toward him, even in the blinding light, but stopped short because right next to him was, “Indra?” Clarke blinked in the sunlight as the registration set in, “Indra,” she greeted, and glanced down the stairs.

Indra pushed her way through the door and past her. Lincoln gave her a quiet, apologetic look as he followed Indra down the stairs, carrying another bag with him. Clarke pulled the door closed all the way and followed both of them down. When she reached the room at the bottom she stopped short and watched as Indra approached Lexa slowly, and knelt on the floor, “Heda.”

Clarke couldn’t help it. There was definitely a lump in her throat at the quiet respect. She glanced over at Lincoln, whom had placed the bag on the table. He seemed not able to speak either. Clarke looked back in time to see Lexa answer, “Indra.” She greeted, in a tired but clear voice. Lexa rolled her eyes closed, “you were supposed to kill me."

"Sha, Heda."

"One day I should kill you for this."

“If that is what you wish, Heda.”

“We deal with that later.” Lexa said.

“Sha, Heda.” Indra replied.

“For now,” Lexa took a few smaller breaths, and Clarke winced a little because she knew how badly breathing, not to mention trying to speak, had to hurt, since they had just stuck a hot knife to her chest. Lexa tried to finish, “for now, tell me about my….” But the words trailed off as sleep started to take her. Anyone who knew Lexa knew what she was about to say though. And no one moved or said anything, not wanting to keep that sleep from her. Instead, they waited a few minutes longer to be sure that sleep was sound.

Indra finally stood up and turned to Clarke, “what happened here?”

“She has a fever,” Clarke stated, her tone quiet, “and we’ve just cauterized a deep wound.” She wanted to add that, believe it or not, Lexa was in a lot of pain. But she didn’t, and she didn’t because she knew Lexa would not want that.  And she didn't know if she would want them to know about the nerve damage either.  

Indra glanced up at Lincoln and motioned him toward Lexa. He moved slowly, approached Lexa and set a hand to her forehead. Clarke held her breath, but she didn’t even know he was, until after a few seconds Lincoln pulled his hand back, “she has had a fever,” he said, “but it is breaking.”

Clarke might have collapsed with relief but she managed somehow to not only stay on her feet but also to speak, “I’ve been giving her the tea.”

Lincoln answered, “It has helped.”

“Thank you.” Clarke whispered.

“She will probably sleep for a while.” Lincoln said next.

“She needs it,” Clarke said. Then, with the panic and the adrenaline out of her system, she looked at them both again in confusion, “why are you here?”

“There are too many people searching this forest.” Indra answered, matter of fact.

“Searching for what?” Clarke asked. Her gut twisted instantly though, expecting the answer to be Lexa.

“Searching for you.”

“Me?” Clarke asked, the reaction was instinctive and didn’t make sense, “why?” But suddenly as she asked the question, it did, “because I took her?”

Indra ignored the question. She changed the subject instead and turned to Lexa, “can Heda be moved?”

“Now?” Clarke asked in surprise, she glanced at Lexa and then back at Indra.

“Right now.”

Lincoln supplied what Indra wasn’t saying; “It is too dangerous to stay here and the amount of time we have to get her to a new location with less chances of being seen is very small.”

“So can she be moved?” Indra asked again.

Clarke thought about it. Lexa’s cuts were healing and they just cauterized that damn hole in her chest. But if Lincoln thought it was dangerous here, “right now,” she said, “right now she is just sleeping.” Clarke glanced at Lexa gain and then turned to Indra, “I’d rather give her time. But if you are in that big of a hurry then, yes.” It was a difficult decision to make.

“Bring her.” Indra said to Lincoln. He started forward and quick as a flash Clarke balked and shot a hand out, “wait!”

He stopped and turned and looked at her. Indra turned to her as well. Clarke explained, “she is undressed to reduce the fever.”

Lincoln froze up. Indra changed her plan, “go on up to the horses.” She said to him instead.

Lincoln, for his part, was quick to take his leave. Clarke exhaled as he did. But Indra had turned to Clarke, “some of her things are in that bag.” She nodded to the new bag on the table.

“Thanks,” Clarke said in relief. She went through the bag and opened it and shuffled through more bolts of cloth, vials of medicines, food and then …she found a pair of knit black shorts and to her surprise, one of Lexa’s long black jackets that closed all the way down the front.  This would rub less on her healing cuts than pants or shirts, so she took it from the bag. She hadn’t thought about how cold it was until she found a pair of knit socks that probably reached Lexa’s knees. Taking the things Clarke asked Indra, “did you pack this?” Because it was exactly what was needed right now.

But Indra, whom had purposely turned her attention to Clarke’s drawings all over the walls, only grunted. So Clarke just went back to Lexa and knelt. To her surprise Lexa’s eyes opened a little and she shifted when Clarke touched her shoulder. Clarke breathed, “hey?” She gently pulled the fur back, “we’re leaving,” she explained, “we have to move you until you heal a little more. And you do need that time, Lexa, before you decide what’s next.” She had tried to imply that part carefully and wasn’t sure that she had. So she looked into Lexa's eyes and waited on her answer.

Lexa studied her a second before agreeing, “yes."

Clarke added, "we have to get you dressed.”

Lexa moved to sit a little better. As Clarke draped the long jacket around Lexa’s body out of the corner of her eye she saw Indra look their way, briefly, and look away again while Clarke helped Lexa get her arms into the sleeves, closed the smaller buckles all the way down the coat and secured the heavy bucklet of the belt. She slid the shorts onto Lexa’s legs and Lexa reached to help get them up all the way even if her hands couldn’t close well on the soft knit. Clarke saw the flush on her face because of it but said nothing. She reached for the socks, “its cold out.”

“Sha.” Lexa said back.

Carefully Clarke rolled the socks on. Then she looked at Lexa, whom, dressed in her own things, was starting to look more like herself, "ready?" Clarke asked.

In reply Lexa wrapped an arm around her waist. Clarke then leaned just enough and helped her to stand up.

"Indra," Lexa's tone changed, after finding her feet.

Only then did Indra turn, “Heda?” she could not quite hide the surprise in her eyes at seeing that Lexa could stand.

Lexa just motioned her up the stairs, “send Lincoln down?”

Indra turned and went up the stairs.

Clarke was still staring after her, one hand braced gently against the flat of Lexa’s stomach and the other around her shoulder when Lincoln came back down. They both looked at him as he appeared and he stilled. Clarke glanced from him to Lexa, and it was clear he understood. But it was also hard for Lexa to ask. So Clarke did it, “can you get her?” she glanced at Lexa before carefully adding, “we ..walking is..”

“I can't do it yet.” Lexa stated suddenly. She looked over at Lincoln and studied him to imply what she could not quite say. He came over then without a word and picked her up carefully. Clarke had to swallow a little, seeing that, and felt her heart give a little thump. The Heda of 12 Clans, known to be ruthless and bloody, seeming light as a feather in the arms of one of her warriors. Clarke moved fast then, she pulled her boots on to stomp out the fire, gathered up Lexa’s comb and knife and the knife with the bone handle that had so far served her so well, and tucked them along with the jars of peppermint and primrose oil into the new bag on the table. Then she picked it up and grabbed the bag with her drawings as Lincoln started up the stairs with Lexa. Clarke blew out the candle, and followed him out.

The morning light outside was blinding to someone whom had been underground for countless days. Blinking several times to clear her eyes Clarke saw Indra was already mounted and Lincoln was standing with Lexa waiting by a horse. As her eyes adjusted she realized it was the horse she had let loose the night she had arrived here. He must have made it home. She ran a hand over the horse’s neck and swung up into the saddle like she had been riding her whole life. She secured the bags to the saddle. That was when Lincoln asked, “Heda?” and everyone knew he was asking where she would ride.

“With Clarke,” Lexa replied, “I will ride with Clarke.”

The words made a little stutter skip through Clarke. She reached down and helped Lexa –also with Lincoln’s help- get in front of her astride the horse. Clarke wrapped an arm around Lexa, so glad that the long coat was offering some protection to the healing cuts in her legs. Clarke frowned all the same, knowing the ride was going to be hard on her. Finally, only after he was sure Lexa was ready did Lincoln step back and get on his own horse.

They set off through the forest at a brisker pace than Clarke expected. Holding Lexa tight against her, Clarke urged her horse faster and followed.


	23. What Doesn't Kill Us

There was a lot of tension in the long line of Skaikru as they walked toward Tondc, following herself, Abby and Kane.

Octavia led her horse by the reins, having given up her spot on his back to Raven, who sat, best as she could, silently in the saddle. Octavia knew the girl had absolutely no fond memories of Tondc and she was just waiting to get this part of it over. So was Octavia, this time. This time, there was going to be no sneaking out. It was going to be done in broad daylight. And even if they didn’t know about it yet, Abby and Kane were not stopping them. Bellamy was walking quietly on the other side of her horse, along with Miller and Wick. Octavia reached over and handed the reins to him, “here.” She said. He looked at her in surprise but closed his fingers around them as they walked. “Thank you.” Octavia told him. Then she turned to look back into the long train of Skaikru.

“Where are you going?” Raven called to her, as her horse carried her away.

“To find Jasper.” Octavia answered. Then she turned and started into the oncoming line of refugees. She didn’t know them. Not really. On the Ark she had been ‘the girl they hid in the floor’ and after that, she had been locked in Sky-Box. So she didn’t recognize the faces of those who were supposed to be ‘her people’. She only saw people, sometimes among those people children and families. She did notice the guards. Those had been prevalent in her before-the-ground 'life'.

Finally, about halfway down the line she saw Jasper walking alone to one side of the group.

“Hey?” she greeted, falling in to walk next to him.

He looked across at her. His voice was quiet, but not angry, “this is not a good idea.”

She inhaled quietly; he didn’t have to say more than that. She knew why he would think this was bad. He had a lot of the same anger as her brother. In some cases more. So she said, “you guys can’t stay at the Ark, and where else would you go?” She did not dare suggest the Mountain to him.

“You say they want to wipe us out?” he asked.

She answered honestly, “yes.”

Jasper looked at her, “so why are we marching right to them?”

She looked back at him and said, “Because not all of them do.” He only grunted at her and looked ahead. So she asked, “where is Monty?”

He motioned back, “I don’t know. Back there somewhere.”

“Jasper,” she said next, not even following any singular topic she looked at him and tried to figure out what to say. Then it came to her, “so there is this story. Happened near here not long ago.”

“Grounder story?” he asked with a grunt.

“Sort of.” She said to him, “but it goes like this. This bunch of kids fell out of the sky and landed in a drop ship near here. One of the kids, this …stupid girl… got out. See, she’d been locked away her whole life and it was her first real taste of freedom. So what does she do?” she asked glancing at him.

Jasper grunted at her and he tried to hide it but a smile did crack at the corner of his face, “she decides to go jump in a snake infested river?”

“Mmm.” Octavia agreed. Then she looked at him, “and this boy, this sweet boy she didn’t even know, he risked his life and jumped in and saved her. Not Clarke,” Octavia said then, ending the third person narrative, “not Finn. You did that, Jasper.” He said nothing then, just shifted his eyes toward her, they were a little watery so she spared him having to speak and gently shouldered him instead, “you know that girl could really use your help again now.”

He swallowed and looked ahead. Finally he said, “I can’t.”

She looked down, “that same kid put up a hell of fight in Mount Weather, you know. If it weren’t for him, all 47 would have been long dead before anyone got there to get them out. That was selfless and brave. What he did there was good no matter how bad it hurts now.”

At the mention of Mount Weather, she saw his throat lock. She saw his eyes start to water. Shit, she thought. Maybe she had pushed too hard. She asked, “just think about it?”

He didn’t answer. So she stopped walking and let him slip ahead of her. After a minute or two of others walking past her while she stood there, Monty caught up to her at last. Monty had seen her talking to Jasper. Because he asked, “how did that go?”

“Not well.” Octavia admitted as she started walking again.

“But he talked to you?”

She answered, “some.” She knew that Jasper and Monty grew up like brothers. That reminded her of her own brother, whom she could not even see, this far back in the line. She could always feel the sting of their relationship crumbling, “family hurts.” She muttered.

“Yeah.” Monty answered, “probably the most.”

But that topic was tense, and probably too much for either of them at the moment. So she changed the subject, “when we get to Tondc, and these people are settled, we are telling Abby and Kane.”

“You think that will work?” Monty sounded surprised.

“They don’t have any choice,” Octavia said back. She shook her head, “I’m not doing all that sneaking out shit. That’s no way to get anyone’s respect.”

“I guess,” Monty said carefully, “but then, I guess it also depends on what kind of situation you are in. Some times, sneaking is required.” He grinned at her and said, “and that’s where I come in.”

Octavia had to laugh then, “so how smart are you?” she asked.

He actually paused a second in step, “really?” he asked her, in mock surprise.

She stopped too, “yeah? So answer it.”

He looked at her and grinned, "how good are you with a sword?"

She snorted softly and asked back, "That good, huh?"

"Be amazed," he said to her, "prepare to be amazed."  

"Might hold you to it." she said.  

"Hit me with your best shot," he said. Then he looked at her swords again, made a face and added, "proverbially, of course."  

Octavia couldn't help the little laugh that escaped her.  He started walking again, but she stayed where she was just shaking her head. He looked back at her, “coming?”

“Nah,” she said still smiling at him, “I have to check in with Harper.”

Harper was just a little bit further back in the line. This girl, she realized, as she fell into step behind her, she knew even less than Monty. But Harper looked at her anyway. Octavia asked, “how you doing?”

“Good.”

“I wanted to thank you for your support the other night.” Octavia said to her.

Harper shrugged, “you’re welcome. I just kept thinking though, that it was Clarke. What she would do. What she had done. Someone had to step up to get the others to move.”

“Glad you did.” Octavia answered, “and glad you’re here.”

Harper looked over at her, “she’s your friend, right?”

And Octavia wasn’t sure how to answer that. Finally she said, “I don’t know. There’s a lot of crap that went down.”

“Maybe you should let it go?” Harper said next, then she shrugged and looked at Octavia, “or maybe you already have? Or maybe you wouldn’t be doing this?”

“Yeah,” Octavia agreed, “maybe I have.” She changed the subject, “so you ready for this?”

Harper nodded, “yes. One way or another, I’m not being locked up again, either by Grounders or by …that mountain.”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Octavia muttered, “being locked up.”

Harper’s face fell as she remembered, _the girl in the floor_. She could almost see the words flash in Harper’s memory. Harper glanced at her, “sorry.”

“Nah, it was a long time ago. I was the kid that got put in Sky-Box just for being born.” She grunted. Then she looked at Harper, “hey, what were you in for?”

Harper rolled her eyes, “its dumb.”

“No, tell.” Octavia asked.

“I broke up with someone.” She answered.

“How is that an offense?” Octavia asked, as far as she knew, people were allowed to date even on the ark.

Harper glanced over at her, “he was on security. He would give me his lunch each day to take home. When I broke up with him he accused me of stealing them. So, I got sent to Sky-Box.”

Octavia studied her as they walked, “so he lied.”

“Yup.”

“And they locked you up?”

“I was on the drop-ship.” Harper answered.

“But you didn’t do anything.” Octavia pointed out.

Harper just smiled at her and folded her arms, “neither did you.”


	24. High Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone.
> 
> First, I want to thank you all for the support and the wonderful comments. I am glad you like this story, and it is encouraging to hear. So, thank you all so much.
> 
> Yes, it seems I do post frequently, I hope that is okay. You see, I have a good half of this story already written up and sitting in my computer. So, with a little editing each day, I can usually get at a chapter if not two of them up. 
> 
> That being said guys, 
> 
> The next few chapters might or (because I don't know for sure because it depends on how well editing goes) might not post each day. They might take a little longer to edit out and get posted up. Because there is alot happening in these next several chapters, including -at last- Clexa. And so editing them might take a bit more time. Just a heads up.
> 
> Also, at that time, I will be changing the rating of this fanfic probably to E just to be safe, though I am not really sure anything I will post will need that high of rating on it. I wish I could just change it by individual chapters such content is in but it seems it will not let me. Unless I am missing something. This is the first fic I have ever posted here. 
> 
> Have a great day out there, everyone.
> 
> -DistantStar

The horses were slowed to a brisk trot over old, cracked pavement. Dry shrub reached out of those cracks, just like the half broken buildings reaching out of the ground all around. Rusted remains of cars sat parked right where they had been at the end, or some were turned haphazard on their sides. It looked abandoned, and it looked though everything was left exactly as it was on the day of the bombs. Probably it was.

They had been riding for nearly three hours, and not long ago they had come up a road that led into this wasteland, “what is this place?” Clarke asked. Instinctively she tightened her hold at Lexa’s waist. The Commander was awake and studying the buildings, “it is a subdivision.” She said.

Subdivision Housing. She had read about them in her Earth History class. But the pictures had shown beautiful houses and manicured lawns all in a row. In her artist’s mind, she was able to scrape back nearly 100 years of time and see this place as it was. But the picture faded just as fast as they kept going further up the street, “does anyone live here?” she asked. As she asked she saw several empty lots among the half-standing houses that had just simply fallen to rock and dust.

Indra snorted, “There is no food. The nearest water is hours away, if you have a horse.” Indra kept her gaze forward. “You tell me?”

“There is no one here.” Lincoln’s tone was quiet as Indra’s had been though as he turned left onto a different street. More crumbled houses all in a row, more empty lots. It made Clarke uncomfortable as she looked around them. She might have actually preferred the graveyard. At least there the fallen rocks and broken angel statues held a kind of quiet peace. Clarke shuddered involuntarily, which brought the warmth of Lexa’s hand to settle over hers and start smoothing patterns over her skin with her thumb.

Finally, Lincoln stopped the horses in front of one of the houses, “we’re here.” He said. Clarke looked at the house. It looked like the rest up and down the crumbled street; two stories, made up of cracking concrete and maybe what was once white brick that was now a faded gray, there was a balcony upstairs and an inset front porch made of rock. Any paint or wood was long gone but unlike most the other houses this one only had a couple of broken windows.

Lincoln got down from his Horse. So did Indra. Clarke slid off of hers and reached for Lexa’s hand and helped her down. Lexa braced a hand to the horse to help stay on her feet. Clarke took down the bags and then curled her hand gently around Lexa’s upper arm. Lincoln came over and shouldered them, “I will go check it out.” He said, turning to the door he started up the walk. His words translated into, _just to be sure no one is in there._

Clarke watched him go. Only after he was in the house did she feel Lexa lift her hand to her elbow as to get a little better balance before she turned, “Indra?”

Indra turned to them, “Heda?”

“Come here.”

Indra moved forward and stopped near them, and by the way Lexa was studying her general Clarke got a distinct feeling she’d rather be checking out the house with Lincoln. But she also knew that Lexa could not stay on her feet without her right now. She caught the slight gleam of ..hurting.. settled in Lexa's darkened eyes. Lexa was in pain. But she was saying nothing. Without speaking Clarke adverted her gaze just enough to stare at the house. Lexa was quiet a second longer, studying Indra. At last she asked, “Where is my army?”

“At Polis, Heda, where you left it.”

Lexa lifted her head a little, “and my people?”

“As they were,” Indra answered, “but still safe.”

After that there was silence. It ticked past, a few seconds that felt like a lifetime in that broken street. Finally though Lexa decided, “then that is all I am asking about this,” she said, “for now. For now, you will return to Polis. You will make sure my people are safe until I can come back to them. And you will also have four days. On the morning of the fifth day I will expect you to be back here and,” Lexa warned, “I will expect you to speak true.”

Indra only offered her usual, “sha Heda,” and that was that.

Lexa nodded at her and dropped the matter. Indra took a step back. And Clarke felt a chill twist down her spine. Because suddenly she realized why Lexa wasn’t demanding answers now. She wanted the truth from Indra, not half-formed or half blocked answers that questioning provoked. The chill turned into a shudder when Clarke realized this was also Lexa’s round-about way of telling Indra she trusted what she was doing, and at the same time giving her a chance to finish it or even just a _chance_. But Clarke swallowed at the same time because in doing what she did, Indra had saved Lexa’s life. And Lexa was upset about it. Which, to Clarke, felt wrong. But she said nothing, not yet.

“Okay,” Lincoln’s voice pulled them all out of that tight spot they had fallen in. They turned and looked to see him coming out of the house, “it is clear. There is food and water in there, a place to sleep. And it’s not a graveyard.” He offered Clarke with just a hint of a smile, probably per her recent request about not being in one.

“Thank you, Lincoln.” She said, she would have hugged him, but to do so meant letting Lexa go, and she was pretty sure that Lexa was hanging on for dear life right now, so to speak. So she just smiled back at him. Clarke asked him, “will you be far?”

“Farther than last time.” He admitted, “but close enough.”

Clarke was surprised, “you never left?”

“I said you weren’t alone.” He answered, he sighed and looked at the sky. It was getting upward near noon, “but we should probably go.” He glanced Lexa’s way.

”Go ahead,” Lexa answered, her voice calm.  She looked over at Indra, “both of you.”

“Heda.” Lincoln replied. He looked at Clarke, “Clarke.” Then he took the reins of their horse and went to his and mounted up. Idra did the same. She rode her horse over to where Lexa was, “ste yuj, Heda.”

“ste yuj, Indra.” Lexa answered.

Then, Lincoln and Indra both turned the horses around, and set them at a fast run away from them up the cracked street. The pair took a corner, and then were gone from sight.

Beside Clarke, Lexa exhaled. She sagged into Clarke with a tiny gasp for breath. It surprised Clarke, but she managed to catch a hand around Lexa’s waist to keep her from falling. Lexa’s face dropped into the curve at Clarke’s neck. Feeling the flutter of Lexa’s eyelids on her skin Clarke looked up the empty street the direction the other two had gone, “come on,” she said, gently tugging at Lexa’s arm she turned toward the house, “let’s get you in.”

It seemed like a very long walk up the drive. But Clarke finally got them to the door.

They stepped inside into a large, very nearly empty room. Walls once white were now a discolored faded shade of yellow, and wooden floorboards were ruined by time. A table was moved against a far set of windows and the foamy, yet still usable, if she could tell by the soft pile of bearskins draped over it, couch was set in front of a rock fireplace. An archway to their left led into what might have once been a kitchen. And leading up to the next floor there was –stairs.

Clarke winced. Her stomach dropped at the sight of them, “I guess we just stay down here..” she said, but a glance at Lexa told her she was barely keeping herself up. She moved fast, getting them both over to the fur covered couch, “just sit…” she said. Lexa didn’t argue and let Clarke ease her down, not just to sit, but also to lay on her back, before she closed her eyes.

Clarke knelt next to her and checked for a fever, but thankfully there was none, “hey?” she asked, shaking Lexa a little, “how’s that place I stabbed you.”

“Hurts.”

Clarke tugged at the jacket, loosening it enough to check the wound. It was inflamed and angry from the cauterization, but it was dry. She skimmed her eyes over all the lacerations, red and puffy but dry, little cracks of blood had formed where they had closed up..

“The horse, Clarke.” Lexa said through her teeth.

Clarke looked up at her, “horse?” she asked. Then it hit her. The horse! Clarke moved and started undoing the first few buckles from the bottom of the coat up. She folded back the cloth and froze, “oh, Lexa..” Clarke dropped to sit on her heels. The lace-like lacerations covering Lexa's thighs had opened, tiny drops of blood peeked out at the edges of some of the cuts. Some skin had rubbed off or blistered where it had made contact with the saddle.  Gently Clarke rolled down one of Lexa’s knit socks. Finding, thankfully, those cuts were still closed up, no blood.  Then, very gently, she lifted the thigh band of Lexa's knit shorts and exhaled softly with relief, those cuts too, had not opened back up. 

Still, for a second, she could not help the bile that rose in her throat that made her think that people who could do this were less than scum.  But they were Lexa's people.  People she loved.  Clarke sighed.

She moved to her feet and glanced up at Lexa's face. But she was asleep, or nearly so. Clarke turned to find where Lincoln had put the bags but as she did Lexa’s hand grazed her side and she turned back to look at her..

“Nou,” Lexa opened her eyes a minute, “no more bandages, Klark.”

Clarke was about to protest, but as Lexa dropped into sleep she decided she was right. The bandages had been necessary, when they were all they had. But that wasn’t the case now and Lexa was better in her loose jackets so that her skin could dry and breathe. “Okay,” Clarke agreed, even if Lexa couldn’t hear her. But still, she had to wash and dry those cuts. Clarke went to find their bags.


	25. nau osir gonplei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Skaikru have arrived at Tondc. Octavia and the others, leave...

It was evening. The Trikru kids and the Skaikru kids were already running and playing together. Two different languages and a war between them, and the kids didn’t seem to care. Maybe, Octavia thought, standing there watching them, these kids would be the generation that finally got along, “and the meek shall inherit the earth.” She muttered to no one in particular as she tossed another log on the fire. Excepting those oblivious children, tension was high in Tondc. It was easy to tell that not a lot of the Trikru wanted the Skaikru there. But it was also easy to tell they would obey their leaders wishes. In the end, it had been Nyko to let them in. He had not been able to say if the 'temporary' situation would be alright in the end when Indra got back. But he was okay with it for now.

Some of the Trikru remembered the Skaikru that came and helped after the damn missile. Which helped ease some of the tension. Some of them remembered the Skaikru always had courage, even when they were just 100 delinquents holding down a metal fort. All remembered the Mountain though no one chose to speak of it. Some others flat out refused to speak to them. But it did not matter. The Skaikru had been given temporary housing throught the camp, some in tents, some in parts of the old subway, to live in while they trained and worked and helped rebuild the village here. They were also told to sleep well that night, and eat, because for anyone ages ten and above, training began at dawn.

“Okteivia,” Nyko’s voice right at her shoulder asked.

It made her jump and she turned and glared at him, “I swear, You might be the only one left who can sneak up like that!”

“Good,” he said back, “Your horses will be ready very soon.”

“Mochof.” She said to him. She had wanted to leave in the daylight and not at dusk. But they had run out of time. It had taken longer than she had hoped to get the entire Skaikru camp here, and that was just the known one. Octavia looked over at Abby and Kane, doing their best to try and make this  situation they found themselves to be in work. She watched as time and time again whomever they would stop to talk to would glare at them and walk away, often leaving Marcus standing there with a confused look and Abby with a frown on her face.

Nyko saw it too, “they are asking things that are not their business.”

“Not their business, yet.” Octavia replied, she folded her arms and shifted back and forth on her feet in front of the fire, “they are just worried about their people. Can you blame them?”

Nyko only grunted. He studied Abby and Kane. She watched his eyes move over the others as well, the former guards, her friends, over Jasper separate from them, and over her quiet and brooding brother whom had placed himself alone near a fallen wall. Yeah, Octavia knew he was there and so did Nyko. At last Nyko offered, “Relations between Skaikru and Trikru have been shaky at best.”

“Shaky?” Octavia kicked at the fire and looked at him, “they’ve been downright bloody, Nyko, you guys have been putting spears through our chests since the day the drop-ship landed.”

“True, but that wasn’t me. At least not that one.” He grumbled back, “and you have been blowing up bridges.”

“Also true,” Octavia conceded, “but for the record, that wasn’t me either.”

Nyko looked over at Abby and Marcus again, “but they still should not be asking about Heda.”

“No, they shouldn’t.” Octavia agreed. She hadn’t missed the stacks of branches lain all over what was left of the town. They were in mourning. But it was a mourning that was left unsaid. It had to be for a Commander who supposedly died a traitor. It was said only in the branches of the Heda’s trees. Octavia looked at Nyko again, “Marcus respected Heda. They mean no harm by it,” she added, “but I will talk to them.”

“Mochof.” Nyko said. A second of silence passed between them that was strangely uncomfortable. She knew they both had on their minds things that could just not be said. Or standing right here by this fire, they could cause the very war they were trying to stop. At last Nyko asked, “How is Lincoln?”

“I haven’t seen him since before the jus tri.” Octavia answered truthfully. She shrugged and stared into the crackling fire, “after the Mountain, you know, he stays away if he can.”

“He turned his back on Heda.” Nyko said.

Octavia glared at him, “She turned her back on him.”

“Sha. I know. We all know. That was why she went to the tri. But still,” Nyko warned, “Lincoln’s penalties, in the end, might be the same.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Octavia answered. Lincoln wasn’t stupid. He knew Heda could still put him on a tree one day, “but until then, Indra tolerates him, he does what she asks, then stays out of the way. What else can he expect? Not for this to save him. He is only doing what he thinks is right.”

“That’s what he’s always done.” Nyko agreed.

“Sha.” Octavia answered, and the topic dropped on a calmer note. Nyko looked around the village, in its stages of being rebuilt. So did she. Truth be told the greater number of people here now seemed to be Skaikru. Truth be told, she was afraid for them. What if they got themselves thrown out of Tondc? Which had high possibility of happening because of how badly the two cultures clashed. “Indra is at the capitol,” Octavia began, “but shouldn’t Kaia be here?” It had been bothering her somehow since it had been Nyko whom had let them through the gate.

“There was some trouble.” Nyko replied, “some hang up that kept her there. I think it was someone believed they’d found Heda.”

“Right..” Octavia muttered.

“You are taking five people with you?" He asked next, "Five people, five more horses?” So she nodded. Then much more carefully he asked her, “What do they know?”

She didn’t miss what he was asking. She tightened her jaw just a little before replying, “nothing.” Octavia looked out across the anxious camp, “all they know is were going after Clarke.”

“You won’t get into the city without Indra.” He said to her, “Not even if you are allowed on other Trikru ground.”

“Yeah,” Octavia nodded, “that’s why I am counting on her being there. Which is why we have to go now.”

Nyko studied her a minute. She hated when he did. Because she often felt he could see right through her. She folded her arms as though it would form some sort of shield. But it didn’t. Finally he asked, “does Indra know this plan?”

Octavia wasn’t admitting anything but she did look over at him, “I can exclude your getting me the horses if it all goes to shit.”

“Then she doesn’t.”

“Mmm.” Octavia hummed non-committally.

“No, dont.” Nyko decided, “If it comes to it, won’t deny what I did.”

“Me either.” Octavia replied. She caught sight of Raven, who was sitting looking very dismal seated by a wall, watching people go back and forth, “hey?” she asked with a glance at Nyko to get his attention she motioned to Raven, “I am going to need some straps for her saddle, for her leg.”

He seemed surprised, “you’re taking the cripple girl? Is that wise?”

“See what you need to understand Nyko,” Octavia began, “is you don’t always need legs, and that girl over there, she’s the one that took out that bridge.” Octavia flashed a smile at him.

Nyko just snorted, “I will get you the straps.” He said. He turned. As he did two Trikru came up leading five more saddled horses. Nyko called back, “and here are your horses.” He said, as the warriors put all the reins of the horses into her hand. This act, caught the attention of everyone present, after all a girl standing with five saddled horses was quite a sight. In fact, everything –everyone- even the children went quiet. All that could be heard was the crackle of the fire. Out of the corner of her eye Octavia saw Raven and Monty push to their feet, so did Harper and Miller and Wick. Abby and Kane were on the way over. Leading the horses with her Octavia met them halfway.

Abby asked first, “what are you doing?” it was a hiss, under her breath, combined with her trademark fast glance around to see if anyone was looking. Everyone was.

Octavia tilted her head a little, “leaving.” She answered. She looked over her shoulder as Raven, Harper, Miller, Wick and Monty, now bringing her own horse, came over, “all six of us.”

“No,” Abby decided, pushing forward to get into her face, “you can’t do that. We just got here.”

“Watch me.” Octavia turned to the others, “get on the horses.” She said, and at that minute, Nyko was back with the leather straps. Octavia took them and then turned and approached Raven, “okay, so, I know you can do anything,” she said respectfully, “and I mean that. You’ve done amazing things time and time again.” Octavia opened her palm then and showed Raven the straps, “these will help.  But if the horse bucks too much they will give so you are not hurt.”

Raven looked at the straps for a second and then looked at Octavia. Finally Raven agreed, “okay.”

“Raven!” Abby turned to her now, “this is-”

Raven glared at Abby, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Then she looked at Octavia, “help me get on this horse.” She said, tugging at the horse’s saddle. With a smile and a sidelong glance at Abby, Octavia helped Raven swing up into the saddle. Everyone was quiet as she slipped the straps securely around the loops in the saddle and around Raven’s leg, one at her ankle the other at her knee before she slipped the ends of each through the loops to close them. Skaikru and Trikru onlookers were starting to gather in an even tighter ring around them now to watch what was going on.

“Octavia,” Kane stepped forward to stand where she was. She knew he would, eventually. She turned to him. He said, “They’ve never ridden.”

“Couldn't swim either but we learned how.” Monty replied, he tried to get in his saddle the first time, and couldn’t quite do it, but he managed to pull himself up the second time.  That was when Jasper appeared near the side of the crowd.  But he didn't say anything.  He just looked at Monty.

Octavia remembered something, "Kane," she said, since she had his attention, "you shouldn't bring up Heda." Kane was still trying to digest that when, out of the corner of her eye, Octavia saw Bellamy approach from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. As he neared she turned to him. He stopped just inches from her, “don’t do this, O.”

She searched his eyes. She gave him one more chance, “come with me?”

He didn’t even blink. He just shook his head at her, “no. You need to stop this.”

Behind her Octavia saw Nyko help Harper up into her saddle. Two of the Skaikru broke out of the gathered crowd and helped Miller and Wick into theirs. She didn’t know their faces, but she knew they were Skaikru. She thought one might have been Abby’s assistant. Silence came after that. Octavia just stared at her brother. She saw his throat work as he swallowed hard. Her own lips were dry because she was nervous, and because it was going to hurt so bad to say the two words to him. But they left her mouth anyway, “too late.” Then she turned, keeping herself together somehow by just not looking back at Bellamy she went to Nyko who brought her Horse. Octavia mounted up, “we’re leaving.” She said. Then she turned her horse, slowly, and carefully, she started toward the gate. The other horses automatically followed hers as she hoped they would. She knew the Raven and Monty, Miller, Harper and Wick were doing nothing but hanging on and Octavia turned around to give the five of them an encouraging smile. All the same she couldn’t help but notice how nervous they looked. She would be taking off at a run out of here if it wasn’t for them. But she had them. And that was more important. As she neared the gate Octavia looked over her shoulder at Bellamy who stood staring where he had been and at Abby and Kane who were following with both Trikru and Skaikru close behind the horses, “don’t blow this, Kane,” she called back to him, looking around Tondc, “make it work.”

He nodded at her. He gave her that watery smile he always did, “I will.”

As she passed through the gate she heard Abby shout, “Where are you going?”

That made Octavia stop and turn her horse to look back at Abby, “to find Clarke.”

Cries of Wanheda could be heard from Tondc, long after the horses left the gate and were far down the road. And Octavia smiled.


	26. Sunset

Evening was falling, casting shades of pink and purple across the sky. She never thought she’d get to stand on Earth and watch the sky change colors.

She stood at the rail of the balcony.  There was a telescope up here, and an old metal bench.  But that was all.  With a last glance at the sky, Clarke turned and went back through a glass door that somehow had manged to stand the test of time and into the large bedroom behind it. Frayed wooden floorboards creaked she stepped on them. She had placed her candle on the dresser in the room she had borrowed a pair of white shorts and a light blue t-shirt from. The top of the dresser was covered with unlit candles and books. Clarke walked past the only other piece of furnishing the room had to offer, a large wooden bed in the center with towering posts. The layers of shaggy white furs that covered it, some of which also lay on the floor of the room told her this room had been redecorated since its original occupants left.

Carefully closing the door after her, Clarke left that room.

The door across opened into a bathroom. Earlier she had used a bucket and rinsed out her hair in there. Having forgotten Lexa’s comb on the counter Clarke went in to retrieve it before going back down the stairs. The light of her candle shone again on the porcelain fixtures and countertops. On Earth, it seemed, everything was larger than it had been on the ark and Clarke trailed her hand down the glass shower door. Indra had been right. There was no working water here. But Clarke still had to wonder what it would be like to use a shower this size, with hot water instead of lukewarm water off a ration card. The idea caught at her mind and made her mouth open a little as she looked through the clear glass. It ran dry though as thoughts of Lexa suddenly surfaced; Lexa in the steam. Lexa pushed up against the tiles. Lexa gasping her name as Clarke sucked at her throat...

Lexa.

Her skin felt too warm suddenly. Even her name set Clarke’s pulse racing. She had to get a hold of herself because she would not touch her just to loose her. Even if it meant never kissing her again. It might have been unfair, it might seem childish, she wasn’t trying to dangle herself over Lexa like some prize to be had. She was trying to get Lexa to see there was more out there for her than just having to accept the fate that came with her responsibility, that there was so much more to her than a supposedly old soul. She was trying to get her to see that there could be so much more out there for them. They had talked about it. Once. Before everything came crashing down. She grabbed the empty bucket and the comb and avoided looking in the mirror because she didn’t know the girl in it anymore, took her candle and went back downstairs.

_Don’t we deserve better than that._

The conversation had gone.

_Maybe we do._

Lexa had looked up at her lips, and then at her eyes as if to say, _‘I’m going to kiss you now.'_

And then did.

Clarke reached the bottom of the stairs and set the bucket down on the floor, the candle on the table. Then she heard soft movement behind her and turned around in time to see Lexa shift onto her side. She stayed asleep. She needed this sleep. It would heal her now more than anything else. With her brown hair spilling everywhere and the worries gone from her face it seemed impossible that she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders all the time.

It was getting chilly in the house. Quietly, Clarke went over and tugged one of the several furs draped over the back of the couch down over the sleeping Commander and then went to look for wood for a fire. If their other hiding place was anything to go by, they should be set up to not have to go outside.

She found logs in the room that used to be a kitchen, stacked high enough against the walls that would probably last them a couple weeks. The large silent appliances like quiet ghosts reminding the Earth that it had a past that was different from now stood guard. She took a few pieces of the wood and took them back out to where Lexa was. Clarke stacked them in the fireplace and lit it. The glow was welcoming. The heat held back the cold.

Not tired yet but not wanting to wake Lexa, Clarke quietly pulled one of the bags over to the side of the couch so she could see into it better and dug through it for her charcoal…

\--==--

_“What is this?” Lexa demanded, shifting her eyes to the box set on the floor. It stank of death. She could smell it, even from here. She slid her gaze over the messenger in front of her. He was Ice Nation. Because she was planning on negotiating peace with them was the only reason he had made it here._

_Finally he asked, “The Queen has asked to know if you are missing your lover yet?”_

_The room went quiet. No one breathed. Lexa felt herself bracing as she glanced from the box to this messenger. She felt her hand tightening around the arm of the throne.._

_The messenger nodded at the box, “she said to tell you, she thought you might be. So, she’s decided to return her.”_

Lexa gasped, heart racing, she snapped open her eyes. She wasn’t in the throne room. She wasn’t in that day her heart was torn loose by a box on the floor. No, she tried to slow her breathing as best she could. She was with Clarke. She was in a strange house but she was with Clarke. She reached for her but her hand slipped over fur and not the girl’s warm body. She shifted up a little. She looked. The spot at her side where Clarke should be curled was empty.

Lexa pushed to sitting faster than she knew she could, faster than she probably should, if the dull protest in her body told her anything. But she didn’t care. There was the remains of a fire in the hearth in front of her. But where was Clarke? Lexa started to feel that atavistic prickle of dread creep down her spine. She pushed back the furs and put her feet to the floor, “Clarke?” No answer. The dread started to thicken.

Bracing a hand on the arm of the couch Lexa pushed to her feet and looked around quickly.

Clarke was asleep at the table. Every bit of air Lexa had in her body left her in sudden relief. She was not hurt, or stolen from her. Lexa’s eyes drifted around then and she couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept over her face at the yet indistinguishable tall outlines and patches over old yellowed plaster. Clarke was already drawing on the walls, “Clarke?” Lexa called to her softly. Clarke only shifted a little. Lexa bit her lip and exhaled, “you cannot sleep at a table, Clarke.”

No answer.

Fine.

She would just go get her.

Taking that first step made the tendons in her legs sear and fold and try to give. But she took it anyway. To keep from falling she braced an open palm down onto the arm of the couch and pushed off of it to take her next step. Her knee gave. Before she could stop it happening her other knee slammed into the floor. She pushed up again. The third time she fell not even her knees caught her and she rolled onto her back as stars burst behind her eyes. The next few steps after that came in an off balance wobble through the haze of her vision. But her hands found the table. Lexa gave it a minute to catch her breath. Then gently with one hand she shook Clarke, “Clarke?”

“Mmm?” Clarke moved just a little and picked up her head. Lexa could see her try to focus her eyes, but not quite be able to do it. Clarke asked, “Lexa?” as her blue eyes closed and half opened again.

“Yes, Clarke,” Lexa answered, she tugged at her, “you shouldn’t be sleeping in a chair. Let’s go to bed.”

Clarke pushed up slowly from the chair. Lexa wrapped an arm around her. It was easier, getting back to the couch with her and Lexa was pretty sure Clarke hadn’t noticed her small victory in her walk -that was really more falling all over herself- to the table. And she wasn’t going to tell her, she decided, not yet. Carefully, keeping Clarke on her feet with one hand Lexa sat on the fur-covered couch. She laid back to make room for both of them but Clarke was just standing there looking sleepy in white shorts and a blue shirt she had never seen on her before, and suddenly Lexa wanted the warm heat of her under her. She wanted to pull her down and bring their lips together like she had done only once before. She hadn’t known what Clarke would think or feel but she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not once she had looked at her, not once she had decided, _‘I am going to kiss her now.’_

It still hurt to inhale deeply. But to get back the pieces of her control she felt quickly leaving her she did it anyway. Then she pulled Clarke down only to lie beside her. Within seconds, Clarke was fast asleep in her spot again. Safe.

Lexa wrapped an arm around Clarke’s middle and tucked her face into peppermint-smelling blonde hair. It was Lexa who pulled the covers over both of them that night. She closed her eyes as well.


	27. Heroes

It wasn’t raining for the first time in the week since Heda had gone. Leona noticed it. But she said nothing. It would not feel right to point out that even the skies were opening up again. Even if the people were not. The branches were still there. So they would be until the period of mourning ended, even if they were being taken out of the city by cartloads each day, the people kept bringing them back in. The little red ribbons gave a quiet personal touch. It was hard to believe it had only been a week.

She hadn’t known Heda.

She had been in the army at the mountain. She had seen Heda’s power her mere presence rallied. She had left when the retreat had been called.

She felt the connection, or so she thought, to Wanheda. But maybe that was only because the blonde Skai girl had been so glorious. Or maybe it was because she had Heda’s spirit in her now. In the case of the latter, to question if she was a worthy enough vessel for such a great spirit would be to question Heda herself. So she could not question. She could wait to see if she was chosen, and if she was, live up to that calling. That was the way this went.

A few people had started coming out of their homes again, just a few, in comparison to the crowds that normally were out. Because often during her life she had come to Polis.

And as she walked through the streets she could feel the quiet stares of those few people turning toward her, wanting to run to her, seeking hope they had from Heda Lexa. A part of her wanted to offer that hope, the assurance that they needed. Part of her wanted to gather the little children close that parents barely kept from running up to her, or to play with them openly in the streets like was rumored Heda Lexa had often done. But she would not do so for two reasons, the first was she could not give false hope. The second was that Indra and the others forbade it.

So she kept her face forward and walked alone and arrived at the Hall of Arms alone. Leona stood on the steps. She tried to remember what the inside of this building would look like even though she had never stepped foot inside. The third Heda had this Hall made when the collection of weapons was sufficient enough to need one. But what it looked like inside was not among the things that were supposed to be in her head. Thankfully, she wasn’t expected to know everything Heda had ever experienced or known. It was said most memories would be gone because knowing these things in their entirety would simply tear the mortal vessel apart. But she was expected to know everything in the tests. After the Boy arrived those tests would begin. The mourning would end with the new Heda.

She would lay down her gona sword here this noon, every one who was ever suspected to be Heda always did. And here, if she was called or not, was where the blade would stay. Then she would choose another from the walls.

Leona went up the steps, pulled open the door, and stepped inside.

It was dark in the building, darker than one expected. Her eyes adjusted, taking in the great room in front of her, the high walls of stone were covered end-to-end and ceiling to floor with every kind of weapon she knew, and then some she didn’t. Between those weapons were large banners from each of the twelve clans, those had been ordered hung in the room by Heda Lexa after the coalition had formed, and had been hung near the appropriate weapon displays. Large bowls of fire burned in the corners, far away from the banners, making the room hot and giving it an eerie golden glow. Indra stood staring into one of these fires at the front of the room. Leona approached as quietly as she could, to see if she could as of yet catch her off guard.

She made it to about five feet away before Indra spoke, “you are prompt.”

Leona spat a curse of frustration for her failure out under her breath but then lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, “sha.”

Indra turned and studied her; “you managed to get closer this time.”

Leona set her jaw, “but not close enough.” Getting close enough meant she should have had an arm around Indra’s throat before the General knew she was there.

“Not yet.”

Leona wanted to slam her head into the nearest wall a few times. Not getting close enough to be able to take out this General if she needed to do so was a failure. If she was Heda, she could not fail at such a simple thing. But slamming her head into the wall was not something Heda would do either.

Indra must have seen the tug of war in her head, “they’re always nervous.”

Leona paused, “can I ask whom?”

“I’ve served two Hedas,” Indra answered, “Lexa, and Nora before her. Nerves are part of it before the calling, and after for a time. The body is new. The spirit is not. The body must adjust to the things the spirit knows and allow it to guide them. The nerves will lessen.”

“Do they stop?” Leona asked.

But Indra only turned to the room and changed the subject, “you should pick your-”

“-Indra!” the doors slammed open with an echoing boom and Leona turned with Indra to the voice. It belonged to Aneth from the Nomakru whom was coming quickly toward them through the room bringing tension each step of the way with her, closer and closer until it washed over Leona as the woman got right into their space and said, “the Skaldakru, Indra. Travar and his warriors, they have left.”

\--==--

Clarke had pulled a fur in front of the fireplace. Lexa lay on her stomach on it, another fur pulled up just to her hips. She stared into the flames as Clarke’s hands smoothed primrose oil softly over the skin of her back. She would miss this, she realized, as Clarke gathered more oil onto her hands and dripped it over her skin in long warm liquid lines before gently rubbing it in. She would miss these soft and intimate yet not erotic moments they had when she didn’t need the oil any longer.

Clarke’s fingers slipped down her spine and a hand rubbed oil at the same time over each hip. Lexa’s breath caught a little and rolled her eyes closed as Clarke reached for more of the oil. As Clarke smeared it over Lexa’s shoulders she spoke up, “your skin looks good, Lexa. Myofibroblasts have pulled the edges of the cuts closed. Probably you are right, it will not scar as bad as I thought.”

Myofibroblasts? Lexa grunted. She didn’t even think she could say that out loud. There were still some words that Clarke used that just did not have a translation. Into the fur she muttered, “I have no idea what that is.” She knew what her cuts looked like though. Opening her eyes she could see them on her hand in front of her, pale red lines of sealed together skin…

Clarke’s laugh was music to her ears, “never mind.” Clarke smoothed oil down Lexa’s spine again and then back up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clarke’s bag, and the rolled up bundles of her drawings pushed into it. Glancing back at Clarke she shifted up to an elbow just enough to reach that bag. She felt Clarke’s hands pull back completely now. Shifting her hair over her shoulder to keep it out of the oil on her back Lexa reached toward the rolled up papers, “can I see them?”

“What I’ve drawn?” Clarke asked. Hesitantly her hands started smoothing oil into Lexa’s skin again. Otherwise there was a quiet pause that hung on the air, probably because Clarke was probably considering what Lexa would find on those pages. But at last she said, “If you want to.”

Lexa tugged the roll loose; they were not tied so the pages unfurled themselves on the fur. Clarke’s hands seemed a little more timid now as she rubbed the oil into Lexa’s cuts, but they did not stop as Lexa started pulling back the pages in the firelight one by one. The first were of simple things, like a flock of butterflies, and a deer with two heads looking back at her, and one of a river that looked like the river near Tondc. The page after that startled Lexa though, a girl was looking back at her, with upswept dark eyebrows, and tangles of braids and loose dark hair that was pulled back that fell bluntly cut even with her shoulders. A breath escaped Lexa, a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. This discovery was that startling to her. Clarke must have felt the change in her, “Lexa?”

Lexa studied the picture and asked, “Do you know who this is?”

“No idea. Her face was just in my head.” Clarke answered.

Lexa looked at it a second longer then, trying not to show she was a little taken aback by the drawing, she quietly turned to the next page. It was the door of the mountain and the feeling of calm in the room left. Lexa pulled her hand back from it and locked her jaw when she felt Clarke react as well and pull all the way away from her, and more than just by touch. Lexa turned to the next page.

And found she was looking at herself in her war paint, looking down from the cliff onto her army. She thought she heard Clarke’s breath hitch and looked at her, only to see her slide her hands back into the oil and then, those hands were back on her skin again. Lexa shifted to the next page. It was her also, without her war paint sitting back by a fire with her legs out in front of her. The next she knew was drawn from Clarke’s memory of the day they met, because she recognized what she was doing in the picture, and realized this was what that moment looked like to Clarke. The fourth was herself as well, but this time she was drawn asleep. Lexa had never seen an image of herself sleeping before. Probably because no one dared draw it. She tried not to feel the pound of her heartbeat.

“You must think I’m weird.” Clarke murmured, rubbing one hand into the cuts at the small of Lexa’s back.

“Nou,” Lexa murmured, “ai hodnes em.”

She heard Clarke close the jar of oil and for a minute wanted to protest but then Clarke was laying down on her back beside her. Lexa was quiet before she flipped to the very last page in her hand. It was her right arm, the side of her body. Dark angles and bars, sweeping dark curves, her tattoo in perfection the way it was before it was torn. Without even meaning to Lexa glanced at that arm.

“That’s what I was drawing,” Clarke commented, without looking at her. She stared at the ceiling instead, “the day you first watched me draw without telling me?”

“You said it was a memory.” Lexa answered, glancing at the drawing again.

“It is.” Clarke answered. She turned on her side to face Lexa at last, “I made it before I forgot it. So that if you want,” Clarke glanced to that arm, the one nearest to her, “one day I can put it back.”

“Klark,” Lexa spoke quietly, studying the picture. She was about to tell her she could not have it back. Not all of it. Not like this. Part of this pattern was Heda’s. But she looked at Clarke and felt unable to tell her. So she said, “mochof..” and set the page down with the others. She settled onto her stomach and studied Clarke, “you would draw on me?”

Clarke smirked, “…if you put it like that?”

“But what would you draw on me?” Lexa wanted to know and Clarke’s breath stopped for a moment as though she didn’t know how to answer. So Lexa asked, “trees?”

“Maybe,” Clarke replied, she studied Lexa, “maybe stars.”

“Stars?” Lexa asked back. She hadn’t expected stars. But after a second she said, “you should think on it a little. I might let you draw on me when my skin is healed.”

“It is almost healed,” Clarke replied, “I mean, yeah, you are going to have to be very careful or your cuts will open up again but I think by the time Indra comes back you can be wearing all your clothes.”

Lexa felt her own eyes darken the way they did when she felt more like Heda than not, “Indra.” Her voice even took on a sharper note.

“Hey,” Clarke said then, getting her attention, in that tone that said she needed to be listened to. So Lexa looked at her. Clarke sighed, “I’ve actually been wanting to tell you something about Indra.”

Lexa shifted her eyes over Clarke’s face. She had no idea what she was about to say. She had a feeling it had something to do with their situation. So she asked, “go on?”

“She never broke any of your laws.” Clarke began, “all she did was point out to me that according to those laws, I had a right to come take you. Lexa,” Clarke’s eyes searched hers as Lexa digested what she had just said. Clarke finished, “she made it very clear she and the others would have to kill you if I did not step in when I did.” Clarke finished, “don’t be angry at her for not killing you. You don’t have to kill her some day.”

Lexa knew this to be true the minute Clarke had said it; it brought that feeling to her chest that said her most loyal general would have followed through and oddly and maybe in a twisted little way, it made her proud. She didn’t ever have to explain herself to anyone. Heda did not explain. But this was Clarke. Clarke she trusted with her life so much she would lay here eyes closed and naked and at her most vulnerable, with no fear and very nearly no shame of being weak. So finally she said, “I am not angry she saved me. I was angry that she broke our law to do so, or I thought she did. Mochof, Klark, for telling me this.” Her rage at Indra simmered to a dull irritation now.

“Pro,” Clarke answered. Her eyes searched Lexa’s just a little and she seemed unsure of herself. Lexa prompted, “chit ste em?”

“Try and go easy on Lincoln?” Clarke asked suddenly, as though she knew it would make Lexa upset. And it did, but at the same time it didn’t. So Lexa said nothing and stared back at her as she tried to decide how to react to this, “Indra did not disobey me,” Lexa said, slowly, carefully, so as not to let her temper get the better of both of them, “but Klark,” she said, she reached a hand over finally and started smoothing back blonde hair to soften the blow, “Lincoln did.”

Clarke stared at her a second. Her next words were softly said and truth, “maybe so. But we wouldn’t have made it without him, Lexa. Can you try and forgive? Don’t you think saving the Heda’s life is worth a pardon?”

Lexa could barely speak. If only it was that easy. Lincoln had so many times struggled with their ways, even before the Skaikru, that this was not about just one sin. But Clarke begging forgiveness for her friend took the breath out of her. Lexa knew reckoning was coming between herself and Lincoln, now that she knew where he was, or, the other way around. But she truly did not want to hurt Clarke by hurting her friends yet again. So she continued to smooth back the hair from Clarke’s face and whispered the only response she had, “Only if I could.”

\--==--

Evening was setting over the forest. They had been traveling since leaving that morning and would soon have to stop. “How’s it going back there?” Octavia called back to no one in particular as the horses moved at a steady pace, not quite a run yet, through the trees. She had taken them off the beaten path very shortly after leaving Tondc. They needed to hurry to get to the capitol before Indra left. And, since she had to keep the horses at a slower pace until the others got the hang of it, Octavia decided on a shortcut. Well, she realized, even if the others had ridden before she probably would have used the shortcut anyway.

For a second no one answered but the sound of horse hooves in the forest. Then Monty finally asked up to her, “how do you do this every day?”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Octavia turned in her saddle just enough to grin back at him, and all the others whom having fallen into riding a horse were still tense but less tense now. She looked ahead again, “just wait until you get out of the saddle tonight.”

“What?” Monty asked, then somewhat suspiciously, “why?”

But right as he asked, Octavia caught sight of buzzards overhead, something dark and black laying among distant trees under where the birds were circling, she lifted up a hand in warning to the others and brought her horse to a jolting stop. The other horses screeched to a halt as well. She heard Raven swearing, and Miller and the Monty and Harper and Wick as well. But their curses stopped as Octavia jumped down from the saddle and focused on the lump of black on the forest floor. Even from here, the birds told her it was a body.

Harper asked hesitantly, “What is it?”

Octavia looked back at them once. Then she took her horse's reins and started toward the body. She heard them following on the horses, but her feet carried her forward at a fast walk over the cold ground. As she got within twenty feet she could smell who ever it was had been dead for at least a day. When she got within just a few feet she felt her stomach tighten with dread, “Kaia.” Octavia breathed. Feeling as though her knees went out from under her she dropped to the forest floor next to the woman’s body. Octavia didn’t care she was at least a day dead. She still touched a hand to Kaia’s ghost white forehead and brushed back tangled hair.

“Who?” Monty asked.

Octavia only gave him a cursory glance back. Because her stomach felt sick and tied in knots. Because this woman was her friend. She pulled her knife, to the surprise of the others, she could hear them trying to stop her but she didn’t care. She quickly sliced off one of Kaia’s braids, "yu gonplei ste odon." The five behind her fell silent, as though they expected she would do something else. Lowering Kaia gently to the frozen ground Octavia tucked the braid into a pocket and put her knife away. She took a second to get herself together before she turned around, “she’s a friend.”

That brought silence. They looked at the body. They looked at her. At last Harper asked, “should we tell someone..?”

“We can’t go back,” Octavia decided. They would loose too much time. She looked around the forest and up at her friends on the horses and then looked at Kaia’s body, “we stop here tonight. We build her pyre,” she looked toward Kaia then back at them, “we set her spirit free.”


	28. Made Of Breath and Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa has a surprise for Clarke. Clarke has a surprise for Lexa. Lexa makes her choice. They end up having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE 1:** THIS CHAPTER HAS DESCRIPTIVE F/F SEXUAL CONTENT
> 
> If you do not want to read this sort of content, please turn back now. Only click to read this chapter if you chose to read these things and understand they are part of this work. The rest of the story should be able to stand on its own without this chapter should you choose to skip it.
> 
> Also I have left the rating on this fic as ‘M’ because the sexual interaction in this chapter does not use adult wording, and is similar in content with other ‘M’ rated fics I have seen posted here. I have not meant to offend anyone by including it.
> 
>  **NOTE 2:** I will be using Canon Polis from here on out (because I like what they did with it on the show) and I will be going back through the fic to this end to make this seamless.
> 
>  
> 
> Title of this Chapter Inspired by:  
> 'Come Undone' – By My Darkest Days
> 
> \--==--

There were so many stars up glimmering up there in the inky black sky. But Clarke was looking for only one. If she waited long enough maybe she would see it tonight. Then, it was there; a smaller, paler, slower star than it had been before. Clarke smiled and moved quickly to look through the telescope next to her to focus on that star. She held her breath as the cold, quiet remains of the Ark took shape through the lens.

“What are you doing up here?” Lexa stepped up to the rail beside her in her peripheral vision.

“I’m looking at—“ Clarke stopped and snapped her gaze to Lexa who was standing there, quietly smiling at her with her eyes, in her long buckle up coat. A small burst of excitement went off inside Clarke, “you’re walking.”

“Of course I am, Clarke,” Lexa answered, she proceeded to pace a slow circle around her as though to prove it before stopping just in front of Clarke again, “did you think I would not?” The question held no weight though, only dry amusement.

“No, I mean, yes …I mean.” Clarke had to give up trying and laughed at herself, “when did this start?”

“Last night,” Lexa answered, “today. When you were not watching.” Then she said something Clarke hadn’t been expecting to hear, “I wanted to surprise you.”

That little admission left Clarke blinking in surprise because it was so unexpected. Lexa wanted to surprise her. That meant something, you know. Something like this from Lexa was always a well thought out gift. Her heartless Commander showing she had a heart. Clarke felt her own smile spilling over her face, “you did,” she said, “thank you.” She watched that small smile in Lexa’s eyes start to shine. If you wanted to see Lexa smile you looked at her eyes. If you wanted to see her sad or broken, you looked at her eyes. Clarke had learned almost from the start that with Lexa, if you wanted to really hear her, everything she was really saying was always in her eyes. Clarke took her hand, “come here,’ she said, and even though she felt Lexa tense with surprise she pulled her over to where the telescope was, “look through there.”

Lexa looked at her curiously a second but tipped in her head anyway and looked through the lens. Clarke saw her face twitch a little before she asked, “chit ste em?”

“That’s the Ark,” Clarke answered, “well, I guess it’s what’s left of it.”

Lexa pulled away from the telescope and looked at her in surprise. Clarke nodded, “where I was born.”

Lexa turned back to the sky and pointed up, “and it is that star?”

“Yeah.” Clarke went to the rail where Lexa stood watching the Ark in the sky, “sometimes it doesn’t seem so far away and then sometimes it does. I just …I’ve been wanting to show it to you since we got here and I found this,” she motioned to the telescope, “that’s what I was doing up here. Trying to get it ready for you to see when you could walk again.” She gave Lexa another smile, “looks as though you beat me to it.”

“There are legends about that star,” Lexa replied, watching it move away across the horizon until it was gone from sight, “that it was really a city full of Sky People.” She looked over at Clarke at last, “I did not believe them.”

Clarke snorted softly, “Who knew they were right?”

“Who knew?” Lexa agreed. Then she asked, “Do you miss it? Your city in the stars?”

Clarke inhaled, “most of it is down here on the ground now, in different pieces. We don’t know where all of it landed yet.” She looked back up at the night sky, “but sometimes I miss the stars. Or looking down at Earth from the stars.”

“I couldn’t imagine that.”

Clarke smiled at her; “I’ll draw it for you, someday.”

“On the walls, sha?” Lexa asked her, her mouth twitched with soft amusement.

Sighing in reluctance Clarke admitted, “I ran out of paper and the walls, they were just looking at me blankly, mocking me.” She leaned on the rail of the balcony and looked out over the ruins of the housing development outlined by the dark. There were no trees out there for people to be searching through. There was no food or water. There was no reason for anyone to be here. That was, no reason for anyone to be here but herself and Lexa standing beside her. It was an oddly comfortable silence that they might have stolen away from duty and leadership and wars if only for a little while. Clarke felt a sad smile move over her face, the leader of the Skaikru –now known as Wanheda- and the Heda of the 12 Clans, both either thought dead or being hunted down. It was a strange turn of events given all the things that had happened to them in the past several months. Lexa’s hand touched hers softly then, breaking Clarke’s thoughts and making her look over. Lexa glanced toward the house, “come with me, Clarke,” she said at last, breaking the silence. Then she pulled back her hand, turned and walked inside.

Clarke stared after her and sighed. Why? Why Lexa? They always clashed. Always would. But they were also always drawn to each other, always would be. Everything about Lexa was begging for Clarke love her. Everything about Clarke told them both she already did. It wasn’t there since the day they met but it didn’t take long. Now it couldn’t be shut off and it could barely be …contained.

Also there was just one small thing, well --several very large and explosive things actually-- right in the way; people, duty, the damn mountain and not to mention the elephant in the room – Lexa believed she had to die. Clarke wasn’t letting her out of the house until that changed. The world outside here could go to hell …again.

She sighed though. Because she knew she could not force Lexa to do anything. She could not force her to stay and Lexa refused to when she had asked. And Clarke knew they could not pretend they had a sweet little domestic life for much longer at all. So she had to come up with options for Lexa very soon. Or she would lose her….

No. There were no words to describe the cold feeling that ate through her at the possibility of loosing her. She would not let that happen. She just didn’t know how yet.

Clarke turned at last and went back inside.

And stopped cold.

Lexa was sitting at the edge of the bed, candlelight fell over her giving her a softer golden glow as the fingers of one of her hands brushed over the top of a flat box as though she had just placed it on the furs beside her.

And Clarke, suddenly she felt like she couldn’t even move a step or she’d break the spell. So she just settled on closing the glass door behind her.

Lexa pulled her fingers away from the box and looked up at Clarke. Their eyes met up for a second. Finally Lexa asked, “beja, odon hir?”

“Lexa..” Clarke began. The name trailed off on its own. She what? Couldn’t go over there? Didn’t think it was a good idea? What could she say? She still wanted to kiss her? Clarke rubbed her forehead and stared at Lexa.

Who just stared back at her with those amazing green eyes. After a second of this Lexa asked again, “beja Clarke?”

“Okay..” Clarke whispered, and she gave up. How the hell could she not with Lexa looking at her and asking her like that? She moved the handful of steps between them and was surprised when Lexa’s calloused and cut hand caught one of hers, pulled her over to the bed and helped her to sit facing her on the side of the bed. Then the hand let go of Clarke’s and returned to her lap, “do you remember when we talked about the war paint I wear as Heda?” Lexa asked.

“Tears of the Commander.” Clarke replied. Yes, she remembered. It was the night she’d told Lexa she wasn’t going to kiss her again. How could she forget? And it fit that both the story behind the paint Heda wore and what happened between them that night was sad…

Lexa looked at the box and then back at her, “did you want to see mine?”

“Yours?” For a second Clarke was confused. Lexa nodded at her just once like she usually did, as though it said enough. Then it suddenly hit Clarke what Lexa was asking her and suddenly it felt like Clarke’s heart was pounding so hard it was going to break out of her chest, “yours?” she repeated, “Lexa?” she was a little stunned she hadn’t realized this, “yes, yes Lexa.” Clarke had no idea until this second that Lexa would have had her own paint pattern. But she should have. It made sense. She had to have one from before Heda and this, suddenly, felt almost sacred.

Lexa’s eyes only left hers to look at the box. She reached toward it, stopping just before she touched it and looked back at Clarke. That was when Clarke realized Lexa couldn’t do it anymore. She didn’t have the small motor skills in her hands. She could move her hands, she could move her fingers. But her fingers could not grip tightly or do any detailed work, like put on her own war paint. That was why Clarke was still helping her with other things. And Lexa had known she would have to help her with this too. Suddenly she found herself reaching for the box, “tell me how.” She said, “I’ll do it.” Indra must have brought it when she was here. Clarke had seen Lexa with this before. But nerves were getting the best of Clarke and she herself was having trouble with the latch. When she did get it open three things were inside, the jar of black kohl, a small vial of a whitish powder and the little gold circle that Clarke had seen wear so many times on that soft place between her eyes. She looked up at Lexa who in turn was just watching her, “Lexa?” She had to wonder if she was changing her mind.

Lexa wasn’t changing her mind. Her breath was just trapped in her throat. She looked at the glass bottle of the black paint and rolled it with her hand in the box, “you should pour it in your palm.” She said at last, looking back at Clarke again, “it will spread faster warm.”

“Alright,” Clarke took out the small jar and opened it up. Part of her knew it was some kind of mixture of ash and something else, but she wasn’t sure. She was pretty sure though that right now wasn’t the best time to start talking about chemistry. So she filled up the hollow of her palm, immediately closed the bottle back up and put it back into the box. Clarke pushed the box gently aside and then moved closer to Lexa, “tell me how?”

“It goes over my eyelids,” Lexa answered, “then back into my hair. Just like a solid line. Now draw one me Clarke,” Lexa said, straightening her back she closed her eyes serenely, “like you do the walls.”

 _Draw on me like you do the walls._ In instant Clarke lost all but a small fraction of her dexterity as she slid her thumb through the contents of her hand. Before she could think about what she was about to do much longer and thereby render herself useless she lifted that thumb and gently started smoothing paint over Lexa’s velvet eyelids and skin. She had long eyelashes. Clarke had known that. She had drawn Lexa many times. But she never drew on her before. She also couldn’t help but notice how Lexa turned her face so fractionally to her touch. Maybe this was instinctive. Maybe it was not. Maybe she was just helping Clarke put the paint in the right place. Either way, she brushed the last line back into Lexa’s hairline and sat back and asked, “under your eyes too?” This seemed a much gentler mask so far than the one Clarke knew.

“No, none underneath. At least, not like that.” She glanced at Clarke’s hand, “wet your fingertip just a little?”

Clarke ran a fingertip through the paint. She lifted her hands towards Lexa’s face in quiet question. Which Lexa answered by reaching for her hand, wrapping her fingers around it and slowly helping her to draw a single thin line lowly all the way down from the center of her eyelid down to the line of her jaw. Like a single, solitary tear line, Clarke couldn’t help but think. Lexa, she realized, had always been crying. Clarke licked her lips not sure what to say. Lexa released her fingers slowly, “the other side too.” She whispered, “just the same.”

“Okay…” the word was a dry whisper that died in Clarke’s throat; still she reached up and gently drew the other line down Lexa’s face. Letting her finger slip off Lexa’s jaw Clarke quietly sat back and searched the watery eyes that were likewise searching her own. Clarke swallowed thickly and whispered a question, “en chon ste disha?”

“Aleksandria.”

“Alexandria.” Clarke repeated in awe. She trailed her eyes over the paint, over Lexa’s face, so familiar and yet at the same time so different in this pattern. Lexa was silently waiting through the appraisal and Clarke could just not stop the hammering sound her heart was making inside her. She knew, very well, right then and there she was looking through a window in Lexa’s life that possibly no one else knew or saw, “thank you,” Clarke said at last. She wanted to hold Lexa’s face, to run her hands down it. But she did not because she did not want to blur this moment. But she did ask quietly, “why?”

“Because I need you to see all of me, Clarke. Who I am. Who I was.” Lexa answered.

Clarke felt her heart give a hard little thump. This stoic, cold, bloodthirsty, jus drein jus daun, damn ruthless Commander was both her lifeline in the dark, and the knife that could cut it. And she was also still making her fall.

“Listen, Klark.” Lexa began, as though she knew the exact whirlwind in her mind she reached out and took one of Clarke’s kohl covered hands, wrapped it in her hands, pulled it between them and closed her eyes, “it comes to this. I can’t promise not to betray you, but I will promise to fight as hard as I can not to. I can’t promise not to die, but I will promise not to be easy to kill.” Lexa’s hand shifted for a tighter grip she just could not get. Her eyes flashed open then beautiful behind black paint, “my spirit will stay where it is.”

Clarke’s world turned over. She was falling from the stars again. Frighteningly and jarringly and not knowing if she was going to die when she landed she reached out for anything to balance and found herself pulled into Lexa’s lap and trapping Lexa’s face in her hands, “Leksa…”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

Clarke brought their foreheads together, “I know. I don’t care.”

Lexa’s hands slipped up her arms, “kiss me?”

The words barely escaped her before lips were on hers, pressing frantically, hoping, searching, fearing and wanting and Lexa’s already precarious world under the force of this kiss exploded into stars. Clarke was kissing her. Clarke’s soft lips were on hers again. It was a rush. It was warm. It was sweet. It made her dizzy beyond belief so that she could barely keep her arms around the girl on her lap and it grounded her at the very same time and she started pushing back into this kiss because Clarke was her ally, her adversary, her greatest fear, her stolen piece of hope, her only sanctuary in this world and Clarke Griffin was her heart. Shaking uncontrollably with desperation she kissed back the pink lips of the girl she thought she’d lost. She kissed her harder than she had before, because she needed to seal her promise into this kiss. She needed to burn it into this kiss. Clarke’s hands used her coat to pull herself closer into the harder kiss. Tightening her arms Lexa complied for them both and brushed the tip of her tongue across Clarke’s parted lips. Clarke squirmed. Lexa might have as well. She didn’t care. She teased her mouth again, “beja, Klark…” she whispered, barely separating their lips for a second before brushing them together again.

Clarke’s mouth fell open mid-kiss against her own as though she could not withstand the plea. Lifting her hands to each side of Clarke’s face Lexa cautiously searched her tongue forward until it touched against Clarke’s, soft and wet like velvet. The little touch caused only a second’s hesitation before it shattered. Lexa felt Clarke’s restraint slip away a second before her own did, and she crashed their tongues together for the very first time.

It escalated quickly. As they tended to do they fought for dominance and Lexa was drowning and drowning and drowning in this kiss, drowning in the warmth of Clarke’s mouth and barely hauling air into her lungs. Clarke’s thumbs slipping back and forth under her jaw and in doing so marking her with paint said she was drowning just as badly. It took Lexa some seconds but she finally managed to tear herself out of the kiss to breathe at last. She felt Clarke shuddering on her as though suddenly lost and to reassure her she started pouring kisses onto her face but it was a dangerous dangerous game because Clarke’s head tipped back, exposing her throat and the next thing Lexa knew was she was licking and kissing at Clarke’s neck, resisting the urge to bite down and mark her. But she licked and lapped and kissed anyway. That much she could--

“Leksa…” Clarke squirmed again in her grasp and Lexa felt the buckles on the front of her coat suddenly being opened up, one and then another and another after that. It made her blood race harder. She kissed her way to Clarke’s ear, “you are undressing me?”

“You say that like I never have or something…” another buckle gave and Clarke’s hands were at her belt. Lexa quivered watching her. Clarke was falling apart in her lap and she could not resist this. She could not. Lexa kissed Clarke’s face, slid her hands down and caught at the hem of Clarke’s shirt. Soft skin glided under her fingers as she started to try and push it up, “Klark?” she said, kissing Clarke’s lips again, “disha?” she couldn’t quite get the shirt off herself and Clarke was busy unbuckling her belt. Lexa pressed her lips to her forehead and warned, “Do not make me beg, Klark. It’s not becoming.” She refused to let go of the shirt lest it drop to cover pale skin.

“But you’re gorgeous when you do.” Clarke said back and Lexa felt herself flush red at the compliment. Clarke was just smiling as though she’d found something secret, as though she realized no one said such things to her. Clarke got the belt off finally and dropped it to the floor. She grabbed the edge of her own shirt for Lexa and pulled it up over her head taking the remains of her bra with it. Golden hair spilled down around her bare skin covering breasts and nipples and Lexa’s breath caught in her throat. Clarke looked down at the drying pool of kohl in her palm before looking back at Lexa, “do you still trust me?”

There was only one answer, “sha.”

“Will you let me paint on you?”

The question made Lexa’s breath stutter to a stop inside her chest. But it was the same answer, “yes.”

“Okay,” Clarke whispered, she visibly swallowed, “lay back.”

Lexa slowly did so. Clarke crawled closer and parted her coat baring her skin all the way down her body but not opening it all the way, not as yet. Lexa shivered when Clarke sat back again but she wasn’t sure if it was from watching Clarke rub her fingers into the paint in her palm or from the cold night air. The touch of Clarke’s fingertip at her collarbone was gentle but Lexa felt herself seize up anyway as soft fingers started tracking a black line of kohl down and down and down, sliding over scars and forming scars and on their own Lexa felt her muscles contract wherever Clarke touched. Her senses all spiraled. She was shaking by the time Clarke drew the line of black over the flat of her stomach and started back up, “you okay?” Clarke’s voice was a whisper.

Lexa didn’t know how, lying there shaking for Clarke, but she somehow found enough breath in her body to form one quiet word, “sha.” Then the gentle touch trailed up her body again. Lexa felt lips touch twice under her ribs. Clarke moved and straddled her and set her hands on her breasts and suddenly they both stopped suddenly realizing the fragility of this moment. They stopped to realize that somehow, in this moment, they had stopped being two people struggling with the world and had somehow become one.

And they were about to burn.

Lexa lifted her arms from where they had become like dead weight and wrapped them around Clarke’s hips. Blonde hair spilled onto Lexa’s face as soft lips touched hers again and a warm tongue teased over her mouth--

Lexa flipped her.

Clarke had forgotten about those lightening fast reflexes until she was tumbled onto her back. But she remembered them the instant her skin met soft fur. She remembered the instant the press of Lexa’s slender body came down onto hers, and she remembered the instant she found herself looking up into dangerously glimmering green eyes just inches over her own. Lexa was all about kissing and Lexa was an insanely good kisser. From the minute their lips had touched the first time Clarke knew this. Those same so soft lips sank onto hers now, warm and sweet as they kissed her and pulled away just a barely from her lips, just to kiss her again, and pull back again. Lexa moved her head to the other side and kissed her again. Lexa’s kisses would someday, Clarke was sure even as they fell sweetly on her mouth, be her undoing. She twisted her hands around Lexa’s long curls to pull her closer but soon as she had Lexa’s mouth moved from hers. Clarke was surprised and opened her eyes in time to see Lexa drop a kiss on her collarbone, and then on her chest. Her heart started pounding when green eyes lifted to look at her, as Lexa’s tongue slipped down her body, the calluses on her hands only adding to the sensation tearing Clarke down as they slipped up her sides and Lexa’s mouth detoured, settled over one of her nipples and sank onto it. The wet feeling sent small explosions through Clarke’s frame and she cried out and made herself let go of Lexa’s hair in case she tore wads of it out, “Leksa!” Clarke looked down her body at her. Lexa was looking right back at her. Closing her eyes and palming Clarke’s other breast, she started to suck.

It was shattering. Clarke felt her hips jerk upward only to be pushed down gently by Lexa’s free hand. Clarke glanced down again in time to watch her mouth open up and her pink tongue slip out to wrap around her nipple. Then Lexa started sucking at her other breast while the hand at her hip slipped up to the one she had just wet, teasing the nipple with her thumb. Clarke’s throat felt clogged. Lexa’s tongue kept licking and then Clarke felt her hand lightly smoothing down the entire front of her body, “easy..” Lexa whispered, releasing her nipple. She ran her hand down Clarke’s skin again and Clarke realized she had started to sweat. She licked lips gone dry, “Leksa….” The name was all she could say. But at least if it was the only word the two brain cells left in her head could form, it was the word that mattered most.

“It’s okay, Klark,” Lexa said softly, running her hand over her sides of her over-heated body and skimming it up over her front again. Clarke felt her shift up over her; and the rain of kisses fall first on her lips, Lexa kisses, the brush and release of soft lips again and again. She’d die for these kisses; she thought that in an instant. Clarke lifted her hand weakly and tangled it into Lexa’s hair. She opened her eyes to find Lexa’s eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as she kissed Clarke’s mouth. It was beautiful to watch and feel against her lips. Then her tongue pushed softly and Clarke yielded and obeyed as it touched hers again, warm and sweet. It did gooey things to Clarke’s insides. Lexa lifted her mouth away after a few seconds just far enough to look into her eyes and brought her hands up to the sides of Clarke’s head to brush softly through her hair, “laik yu sur?” But Clarke felt her pressing into her as though she could not get enough.

Clarke ran a hand down Lexa’s back, “sha.”

More Lexa kisses followed. The woman did nothing without kissing her, and Clarke loved it. She pushed Clarke into the furs a little more as she pushed so slightly off her body, and her hand skimmed down between their now paint smeared skin to tug at the ties on the pants Clarke had on. Pants that were Lexa’s, Clarke realized dimly. But the thought was broken by the small growl that left the mouth near her ear and Clarke realized why. She couldn’t undo the ties. Just as Lexa started to lift further up as if to sit Clarke reached down and met her hand at the ties. She brushed her fingers slightly through Lexa’s warm ones because it was now her turn to whisper, “Its okay.” She saw Lexa swallow and slightly nod braced above her. Clarke opened the ties herself and quickly as she could started getting the pants down her legs. She watched Lexa’s green eyes slide backward before she pushed to her knees and helped get the pants off of them. The muscles in her stomach quivered as Lexa took away her underwear as well and dropped them with the pants onto the floor. Clarke sat quickly and pushed the coat from Lexa’s shoulders. It caught at her elbows but she shrugged out of it. It settled around her on the bed in a whisper, leaving her bare.

Lexa was gorgeous. Scars and forming scars did not matter. Her skin glowed in the candlelight that highlighted shadows over her lean muscles streaked in places with smudged paint that she had drawn onto her. A crimson flush covered Clarke then and she didn’t know why. It was all Lexa needed though, Clarke discovered that. Because Lexa gently pushed her down into the furs and collapsed her own naked body onto her. Clarke ran her hands down Lexa’s back and suddenly felt all the forming scars there. It made her flinch at the edges under her hands. She bit her lips together and exhaled softly trying not to feel angry and sick all over again. Lexa shifted beside her and pressed a kiss under her ear, “Beautiful One, look at me?” Her hand on the other side of Clarke’s face moved to help her turn her head.

“It’s okay,” Lexa told her, “they don’t hurt.”

Of course she had known what she was thinking. And the liquid eyes were stunning but it was just two words that had stolen Clarke’s breath and sent her heart racing as though it was on a tripwire, ‘Beautiful One.’ Clarke didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t. How could she? She knew her insides were fluttering though. It got worse when Lexa touched her fingers to her face and let her off that hook only to put her onto another. The hand left her face to slide down her sides softly only to track back up them again. Clarke felt her hips lift just a little and shivered when they brushed Lexa’s placed right over hers. Lexa let out a soft sound. Clarke wasn’t as soft and even less articulate but she felt Lexa’s hands twitch as they ran over her skin. Clarke gripped Lexa’s hips and slid her thumbs up and down at the hallows of them.

This made the little sound spill out of Lexa again. Brown hair tumbled into Clarke’s face when she reached up and pulled Lexa’s mouth down to hers and touched their lips together. Lexa kissed her lips twice, then her jaw line and then behind her ear and pulled her in close and started to kiss her way down her throat. Each little kiss was maddening, was fire, was fate. Clarke hadn’t been poetic until now. But she could not even draw an even breath. Tension was spilling into her body without a way to leave it. Clarke drug her thumbs gently down Lexa’s sides and then back up them again enjoying the pause it brought to Lexa and enjoying the way it made her quiver. Enjoying the way it left more of the paint. Lexa’s tongue dipped into the hallow at Clarke’s collarbone and Clarke looked down just in time to see the pink of Lexa’s tongue vanish up into her lips again before she crawled back just another few inches and started kissing and sucking at her chest. Here, she could leave marks and Clarke knew she would. She knew Lexa had wanted to leave them on her neck. She felt the red and purple bruises rising painfully to the surface of her flesh and cursed under her breath because even her own damn skin obeyed Lexa’s orders. Clarke twisted her hair into the fur as she watched and felt Lexa’s mouth open around one of her nipples, ignoring the black paint smeared all Clarke’s skin. Clarke saw it though, “Leksa..” she was surprised to find her voice was incredibly dry. But if Lexa heard her, she said nothing. Instead she just set her hands on Clarke’s hips and settled gracefully onto her stomach onto the bed between Clarke’s legs and continued to lap and suck at the skin on the flat of Clarke’s stomach. And Clarke knew in that second, she was gone. It got worse and she felt herself starting to come undone when Lexa’s warm hands started smoothing lightly up and down the tops of her thighs. She hauled in air before she choked from holding back breath. She scraped her hands through Lexa’s hair, “that can’t taste good, your war paint?”

“I wear it on my face, Klark,” Lexa’s voice reminded against her flesh, “it gets in my mouth sometimes.” Clarke shuddered not understanding how Lexa’s voice sounded everyday and not at all like she was sucking at licking at the skin on the flat of her stomach. Which made the soft licks more insane. Lexa dipped her tongue into Clarke’s belly button, once and then twice and Clarke balled her hands. Another kiss dropped on her stomach, “Klark?”

“Leksa?”

Another soft kiss dropped, “can I taste you?”

_Can I taste you?_

Words were everything. How they were said. These ones made a fine sheen rise to Clarke’s skin like Lexa’s mouth had made bruises. These words made her feel as though she was going to explode. These ones made every cell of her body suddenly come to a screaming halt just waiting and waiting for what would be said. And Lexa –Lexa- was nuzzling her face at her stomach waiting just as much as Clarke’s whole body was for that yes or no. “Yes.”

She felt Lexa smile against her skin. She felt her nuzzle her face into her stomach just one more time. Clarke felt that if she dared speak or even move or even breathe she was going to shatter into a zillion pieces. Lexa moved the last few inches down pushed her tongue deep into her folds. Clarke convulsed when she did that. She convulsed harder when Lexa pulled her tongue right back out and then started licking and sucking at her. Clarke knew she was collapsing into a trembling mess, a trembling shaking mess that squirmed and panted aware vaguely through the bursts of light working through her body that Lexa had clamped an arm over her hips to hold her down. Lexa pulled one of Clarke’s legs over her shoulder. It made Clarke look down toward her to see the pink of Lexa’s tongue lapping at her which only added to the collapsing ache boiling through her. Lexa pulled her other leg up over her shoulder. Clarke had to stop looking. She rolled back her head. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore a finger slid into her and then out again.

Clarke yelled. She didn’t know what. A mix of Lexa’s name and a bunch of dirty words she was sure. Her mouth was dry. Her throat hoarse. Another finger was added and started sliding out and in. “Oh, God…” Clarke groaned. Every part of her was aching but so sweetly so and she knew any minute, she was going to break right here around the slide of those soft fingers. Clarke tried to sit because everything inside her, her blood, her heart, her mind, started to feel like it was racing. Lexa stopped licking at her and shoved her gently back to the fur, “you should stay still.” She said, and continued licking at her.

“Stay still??” Clarke choked out. She convulsed. Lexa’s arm clenched across her hips. Clarke swallowed hard, “Since w..when do I do what I should?” She tried to sit again having found a bit of air or energy or something. She just needed to be near Lexa…

“This is true.” Lexa smiled against her as though she knew yet another trick, looked up her body and started curling her fingers. Clarke went crashing back into the furs. Clarke knew right there in that minute she wasn’t going to last much longer. This she was absolutely sure of. No matter how much longer she suddenly wanted to, “Lek--” she was cut off. She couldn’t finish. Or remember. Lexa’s mouth started sucking the moisture off the tops of her thighs. Oh hell. Oh shit.. she started to try and scramble backward and away but it was no use, she was held fast. Small explosions started going off inside her. But they were nothing like the explosion that hit her when Lexa’s tongue finally flicked across her clit with a single, soft little lick.

Orgasm hit like a shockwave. Like a bust of stars as Clarke fell apart. She fell apart blindly into it, falling down and down and down all the while feeling Lexa’s soft little moans against her that she probably didn’t even know she was making, still licking at her more softly now and slowly stilling her fingers to help her come back down. _I love you. I love you. I love you, Leksa,_ went insanely crashing through Clarke’s head. But she couldn’t get it out, no matter how she tried she couldn’t get the words to escape her mouth. Clarke reached down and scrambled a hand toward Lexa who slowly withdrew her fingers, pushed up off of Clarke and crawled up her. She needed her close and Clarke knew it but there was also something else burning in those green eyes. Something darker. Something she seemed almost desperately silent about. And then Clarke knew what it was, “come here.” She whispered opening a hand toward her.

“Sha…” the word barely was able to escape Lexa’s throat. She was still achy but she was satisfied enough to know that she had just sent Clarke back to her stars. She tried to sink onto her to hold her but then Clarke pushed up, slipped an arm around her and flipped her quickly onto her back on the furs. “You’re not finished.” She whispered in explanation against Lexa’s ear. That did crazy things to her stomach. She’d never been tossed down before. Never. No one had—

Lips against hers cut off that thought. She lifted her mouth toward them and it seemed to make Clarke more desperate. Clarke’s desperation to kiss her and the harder press of her lips as that desperation grew made Lexa’s whole body start to ache. Then the kisses softened and softened and turned sweet on her mouth and Clarke finally pulled away and so gently curled over her. Long blonde hair spilled over them both as Clarke started licking so gently at one side of her throat while the pads of her fingers slipped softly up and down the other side. It was insanely debilitating.

Clarke sank further onto her and pressed her onto her back into the furs. Lexa quivered just a little, but let her. It was easier to do the second Clarke started dropping small kisses on her swollen lips and hair. Clarke kissed her forehead, “you okay with this?” she asked quietly.

Lexa knew the question was loaded but it boiled down to two things; was she okay with what Clarke was doing and was she okay with someone taking control from her? The first wasn’t even valid. The second…

Clarke sat up a little, “Lexa?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Yes.” Lexa replied then, as long as it was Clarke the second part of that question was also okay, “yes.”

“Then stay still…” Clarke’s mouth twisted into a tiny smirk.

“I had that coming.”

“Sha.”

Clarke cupped her head in both her hands and sank onto her. Her first kiss fell insanely softly. Her next few more insistent. Clarke’s fingers tangled in her hair as she deepened the kisses, as her mouth opened once over Lexa’s and then again. Lexa opened her mouth against Clarke’s the third time their lips met up. Clarke’s tongue was warm velvet finding her own. It made a weak feeling burn through her limbs. Clarke pulled her lips away and Lexa was left gasping for them for a second. But blue eyes were burning into hers just inches away. Blue was the hottest part of a fire, she’d once heard. She’d believe it, looking into Clarke’s eyes right now. Clarke swallowed hard and started tracing her thumbs back and forth under her jaw. Then she moved back just a little from her, just enough to start slipping the backs of her fingers down her front, starting at her throat and sliding all the way down her body to stop at her belly and come back up again. This Clarke did over and over. And Lexa hadn’t expected to burn so badly under this touch. But it was like when Clarke had slid the war paint down her skin, her body cried out for touch where her voice could not. First it made her skin prickle as the little hairs stood up. Then it made her skin tingle and finally it started to burn and Lexa, very softly, cried out. Just once. But it was enough. Clarke’s mouth was back on hers. Lexa kissed her back. On her back, underneath Clarke. She pushed herself up enough to kiss her back.

Clarke’s hands tightened in her hair, slipped down to her chest. Lexa felt herself gulping for breath when Clarke’s mouth followed and closed wetly over one of her breasts and started to suck at her, started to push her down further into the furs. Lexa felt her body slipping away from her, her control slipping, her thought, her worries her secret fears that she held so closely to her chest for no one to ever see until all that was left was Clarke. Clarke sucked at her other breast, her fingertips sliding up and down Lexa’s sides. She knew then and there, she had truly died. She had died to get here. She felt herself choking and choking for breath. Clarke must have felt it too because her mouth left her skin and she only felt the brush of closed eyelids, “you still okay?”

“Sha.”

Clarke moved up her, kissed her mouth, and lay down to cover her. Blue eyes stared into hers and Lexa knew her own eyes displayed every feeling she had right now. And she just didn’t care. Clarke could see it there. Lexa, was weak for Clarke. She realized this. She knew it. They knew it. But right now she settled her hands in the small of Clarke’s back, closed her eyes and sank into the furs. Right now, Clarke sank down onto her. Right now, the tips of the fingers of both Clarke’s hands started a gentle slide slowly up the insides of her thighs. And stopped. And Clarke shifted and tried to pull from her but knowing what was wrong Lexa quickly tightened her arms and pulled her back down, “its okay,” she said, firmly as she ever had. She would say those two words to reassure Clarke of anything for the rest of her life if she must to keep her from the things that frightened her, that angered her, or after she killed whatever it was if something ever tried to hurt her. Right now it was Clarke’s worry for her injuries. So she ran her hands up Clarke’s sides, “its okay, Klark.”

“Okay,” Clarke whispered back, sinking her mouth onto Lexa’s swollen lips. Clarke paused just a second longer before tightening her grip at the top of Lexa’s thighs. It was dangerous what they were doing, two leaders of people whom had a bloody history. It was dark. It was passionate. It was them. Lexa took a single sharp breath the second Clarke’s thumbs tracked down between her thighs and started to trace against her and Clarke exhaled softly against her neck. But Lexa’s heart felt like it was exploding and Clarke’s name trembled barely still unspoken on her lips. It would tumble from her mouth any second, then did, “Klark….” When two fingers slipped up and stilled a second before starting a slow slide in and out. Clarke started kissing Lexa’s forehead. She started kissing her hair and her throat and Lexa had to tip back her head so she could breathe through the shaking consuming her lungs, her heart, aching through her whole body. Clarke dropped her lips to her left shoulder and started to suck. Painful red and purple welts started to rise up where they would not be seen by anyone but herself. Lexa groaned, louder than she believed she would, and thrust her hips up into Clarke.

“Break, Leksa…” Clarke whispered, softly kissing at her bruised skin. Clarke moved the kiss to Lexa’s lips and kissed them softly again and again, turning her head a little as she did, taking small gasps of air between kisses with their mouths barely apart. Then she started curling her fingers.

“Klark…” she pulled Clarke tightly to her.

Clarke kissed her forehead and mouth and her forehead again.

She ground her teeth together to try and make the name die before it left her throat, “Klark!”

“Break…” Clarke whispered again at her ear.

It was all it took…

She was Heda. Armies marched at her very will. 12 Clans bent knee to her. Whole cities were razed or built at her orders. People lived or died if she chose for them to. But her body broke open in Clarke’s hands. Like a storm in the forest, sudden and forcefully hard, Lexa broke open in her arms. She cried out for Clarke, grabbed at her. She cried her name against her throat again and again and again and she heard herself but she could not make herself stop. Her entire body was shaking inside and out, control for once long gone. Also for once in so long she was not ashamed of the burn of tears in the back of her eyes. She felt hands tangle into her hair and warm lips kissing her through that storm. Kissing her and she started falling and falling back down to Earth. Kissing her still as her breath slowed back down and her heart stopped exploding in her chest. Lexa opened her eyes to find Clarke’s bright blue ones just inches from hers. _ai hod yu in,_ Lexa wanted to whisper to her, _ai hod yu in._ But the words would not escape her. Not yet. She tried but she could not form them in English either. Still they were fluttering around inside her. Taking a little breath Lexa closed the small space between them and brushed her lips against Clarke’s instead, hoping it said enough. Clarke kissed her back softly and then untangled her hands from her hair.

“You’re covered in paint.” Clarke whispered to her, proudly.

“Sha.” Lexa couldn’t keep the small smile back that escaped over her face, “and so are you.”

Clarke snorted softly and started to laugh. Lexa sighed out at the beautiful sound. She tightened her grip on Clarke then and slowly rolled her under her. The action surprised Clarke a little, she knew. But Lexa was not going to argue this. She was Heda. She protected what was hers and that was that. She leaned in quickly to cut off anything Clarke might say against that by kissing her soft lips, softly as the first time she had dared to kiss them and settled on top of her with her head in the curve of Clarke’s neck. Clarke tangled her hand into her hair like it belonged there. She pulled Lexa’s black coat over them both before settling that hand on the small of her back.

There were so many stars glimmering in the inky black night sky. But Lexa had found her only one.

They fell asleep, together, at last.


	29. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Murphy leaves the Bunker in a rather different way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used a little of S3 here, where before I just had John already out of the Bunker and riding around. Come on guys ^_^ you had to know John, Jaha and Co would surface in this story sooner or later by now......
> 
> \--==--

John sat, hands shaking, muzzle of the gun pressed tight into his chin.

Of all the shitty places on Earth to end up at. He ended up here. In a decked out bunker, but not just any decked out bunker, in a bunker that someone had literally left the lights on in for the next person who wandered in to kill themselves in. Which happened to be him. So the question came back as he shifted his fingers around on that gun and licked his cracked red lips – how the hell did he end up here? At the place where everything went to hell? At the place it all began?

He inhaled. He put his thumb to the trigger-

-and heard the seal on the door give upstairs.

His head whipped around and was halfway to the stairs when he heard Jaha’s voice, “John?” and his heavy, fast footfalls coming down the stairs toward him. Inhaling deeply through his nose John Murphy stiffened his chin and aimed that gun the second Thelonious Jaha appeared around the corner of the stairwell. Jaha froze, stopped where he was, his entire excited posture and expression changed not to one of fear, but the one of sadness at his actions that John had come to know over the course of days,weeks, whatever it was he had followed this man on after his imaginary ‘City of Light’. Jaha must have decided he was not serious because he took a step forward, “I found it John.”

“Stop.” The word cracked from John Murphy’s lips. He hadn’t used his voice in so long. He swallowed to wet his throat and cleared his voice, “don’t.”

“Put down the gun.”

“No way in hell.” John replied, slurring out an angry, “Chancellor.”

“John..” Jaha gave that sad sigh.

“I am not following you one more step!” John shouted at him, pulling back the hammer on the revolver he held, “so you can feed me to a snake if you are out of options!”

“We do what we have to,” Jaha’s voice was quiet, “to survive. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made…”

“Like Craig?” Murphy demanded, “or the rest of us that you dumped here on Earth to see if we could stay alive?”

“We talked about that.” Jaha replied.

“Right, right..” John rubbed the back of his neck and looked around him, “we did. Goodness out of dark acts and all that."

“Come with me John.” Jaha tried, he offered that supposedly inspirational smile that John learned really meant, ‘don’t trust me, I am a lunatic that doesn’t know what I am doing’, “I’ve found the City of Light.”

“No way in Hell.” John replied dryly. And then they were at a stand off. And Jaha actually sighed and lowered his shoulders, “then,” he said looking around them at the overdone bunker, “I guess you are going to have to wait here a while until you change your mind.” Jaha started to turn.

Murphy fired, the shot went over Jaha’s shoulder. But he meant for it to. Jaha turned around to stare at him. Murphy cleared his throat, “I don’t have to miss.” He said flatly. Before you killed my dad I spent a lot of time in VR. Guess what, Chancellor,” John advanced until he had the gun at Jaha’s chest, “you’re not locking me back up in here, either.”

“Son…”

“Stop!” John shouted, “calling me that! I told you, I am not your son!” Jaha fell quiet then, and looked him up and down. He looked at him as though he was the crazy one. John snorted, “and you know what,” he said, glancing to the motorcycles he looked at Jaha and started to move around him in a slow circle to stand behind him, “Speaking of VR, go over there, get that bag…” he motioned with the gun that Jaha should move forward, “one on the couch.”

Watching him carefully, Thelonious Jaha did as John asked and picked up the dark backpack. He straightened, “now get some of this shit in it,” John motioned around them, his hand shook on the pistol, “I don’t care what. Just make sure its pretty and sparkly or drinkable or something and put it in it!”

Jaha’s face softened with disappointment, “you’re going to steal?”

“No you are.” John answered flatly, he swallowed hard and kept the gun on Jaha, “fill it up.”

Jaha finally turned and started loading the bag with sparkly coasters, silver trinkets, balls from the pool table, a few knives and a couple bottles of wine. Then he brought it forward and held it out, “you don’t want to do this.”

“Yeah I sort of do.” John answered. He motioned sidelong toward the bikes without taking his eyes off the crazy ex-Chancellor of the Ark, “get that bike, get it upstairs.” Jaha hesitated. John set his jaw, “now!”

“Do it Thelonious,” a new, soft woman’s voice entered the room. But John had heard that voice enough to know who the speaker was. He didn’t turn the gun to her, he knew it would be pointless, but he jerked his gaze toward Allie, in her red dress, even in this spoiled-rich-kid bunker she seemed so out of place, “stay away from me.” He said lowly, he glanced at Jaha, “or I will kill him.”

“Death doesn’t matter.” She said.

“Shut up!” John yelled at her.

“John…”

“Just shut the fuck up!” He shouted, glancing between them both. They fell utterly quiet. He was starting to sweat. He looked at the bike’s again, “get that, upstairs, now.”

“Go ahead, Thelonious,” Allie said, “just let him go.”

Jaha looked over at her then he went to the bike, pulled it away from the wall and started to struggle with it up the stairs. Keeping an eye on Allie, whom just turned to watch them in the room as though they were some kind of lab-rat, John helped him get the bike up the stairs and out the door of the bunker.

Outside, John might have collapsed on the grass. He might have ran in the clean air like they had when they first got off the damn drop-ship. But right now, he couldn’t enjoy this moment. Not with Jaha and the Lady in Red standing right behind him, Jaha unfolding himself from the bike. Shouldering the bag John cleared his throat, “now get away from it.” He said flatly.

Jaha, clearly did not want to do it. He looked at Allie again, as though he was her pet, and the look made John feel sick. Jaha had always been a bastard, a bastard whom floated his father for stealing medicine, but now he was a sick bastard. Then Jaha stepped away from the bike, slowly backing up to the bunker door. But John didn’t take the gun off of him. He kept it on Jaha to get Allie to do what he wanted, “you too.”

She just gave him a proud little smile like none of this mattered and backed up to where Jaha was. Only then did John tuck the gun into his waistband and go to the bike. He hoped after all of this, it still worked. He hoped, after 97 years, it still had gas and that the gas was still good. He turned the key and the relief that went through him when the machine actually turned on simply could not be put into words. Lifting the kickstand with the heel of his boot John balanced the bike and looked over at Jaha. Jaha took the opportunity to ask, “where you going to go, John?”

“For starters,” he said, looking around them, “I'm going to get off this damn island ..or whatever it is.” He glared at Jaha, “don’t bother looking for me. Have fun with your City of Light.”

Then, hitting the gas, John took off. The ground slipped faster than he expected under him. The wind felt good on his face. Sure, the bike wobbled a bit, because it wasn’t quite the same as the VR ones, it was real. But he had the hang of it enough. He set his eyes on the coast and decided to ride along the water. Maybe, by doing that, he might find a way out of this hell and back into the one he’d come from.


	30. Vanguards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia preps her group for war. Bellamy and Jasper talk. Bellamy starts to wonder if he's doing the right thing or not. Questions are starting to be asked in Polis...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE 1:** Chapter 28 and 29 have been re-posted. For those of you who have already read chapter 28 I have basically completely re-written it (I was not happy with it) into a much less draft like form if you should like to go back and re-read it. Chapter 28 used to be called "This Might Work Out Like It Should" and it is now called "Made of Breath and Skin" Be warned though Chapter 28 does describe f/f sex and, if this isn't something you want to read about it is okay. The rest of the story should be able to stand without it.
> 
> \--==--

They stopped at a stream for water by mid morning. Octavia filled her canteen and turned, taking a drink from it as she watched the others get down from their horses. If it was any other situation, it might be comical when they turned and almost glared at her. But she remembered what it was like to be saddle sore. Octavia capped her water, “you will get used to it in a few days.” She said to them. She put the water away in her saddle. The truth was though, if it were any other situation, she wouldn’t have brought a group of people out here on horseback whom had never ridden. But she trusted no one else and her brother was out of the question.

“I could kill you, O.” Raven grumbled at her. Right as she did Octavia remembered she couldn’t get down on her own. She turned quickly to help her but Wick beat her to it and was helping her down from the saddle, “sorry.” Octavia said.

Raven shrugged as Wick got her on her feet, “I get it though, its fine.” She said. Then she moved, with a little more limp than she usually had, to the nearest rocks, “so what now?” she asked.

“We pool our resources,” Octavia answered, she looked at them, “any of you got guns?” They might not have time to learn to fight any other way if Kaia’s body was anything to go by.

Four out of five of them, including Raven, raised their hands. They looked at her a little guiltily. Monty was the only one who hadn’t brought a gun and looked shocked at the others, “guys?” he pointed out, “She said no guns.”

Octavia grunted. She went to her bag, opened it, and took out another pistol and handed it over to Monty, “here.”

He looked surprised, but took it, “…thank..you?” he was more than hesitant.

“Kane gave it to me before we left Tondc,” she answered the unspoken question, why do you have a gun, that was in the air. She shrugged, “probably he didn’t expect I would stick around.” Of all the Skaikru, minus her immediate friends, Kane knew her most.

Raven spoke up, “you’re not playing by your own rules.”

“I am.” Octavia answered, she took her bag down, “those rules were for the people left at Tondc.” Octavia dumped her bag, knives spilled out first, a lot of them, some rope and bits of leather, wrapped packages of food and her water, her fire kit, her war paint kit and one or two of Lincoln’s shirts among other things. She stood, “so what do we got?” She started handing out the knives one at a time to each of them. When she was done she asked, “guys?” she asked again.

But they were quiet, now. She looked around at them. She knew what was coming. Wick asked it first, “Octavia? You are handing out guns.” He said it as though she didn’t know.

“Yeah.” She answered.

“Does this have to do with that body?” Harper asked at last.

Octavia answered again, “yes. Somewhat.”

“I thought it was left over Reapers.” Miller said.

“Nah,” Octavia answered, she turned, she started packing up her things, forgetting for now that they hadn’t answered her question yet, because with this line of questioning they couldn't stay here, “Kaia was killed by the Sheidgeda.”

“Sheidgeda?” Raven asked.

Octavia slung her pack onto her horse and looked over at Raven, “Night people. They are, um,” she took the sword out of her blanket and rolled it up, “human, but generations ago the radiation left them sensitive to daylight. They don’t come out in daylight a lot and can see really really good at night.” She put the blanket onto the horse. They had to get to Indra quickly. She didn’t know if Indra knew anything about the Sheidgeda being a threat.

“But…” Monty said slowly, “if they only come out at night, we slept where they killed her….”

“Sheidgeda only have so many hours they can move around easily in. That’s why they joined the coalition in the first place, their sensitivity to the sun is a vulnerability, and they needed the strength the coalition offered.” Octavia answered, “As for where we camped, it didn’t matter. By the time we found Kaia they were already long gone and wouldn’t be coming back.”

“Because of the sunlight?” Harper asked.

“No,” Octavia answered, “because they wouldn’t want to be caught in the area. They disguised the kill, made it look like it was Rolkru that did it. There was a cloth in Kaia’s hand, part of a Sheidgeda mask. But the brand on her body, said Rolkru.” Octavia answered, picking up one of the swords she handed it to Monty as well, “here. I will teach you to use it.”

“Okay, now she’s freaking me out.” Raven stated. She looked over at Octavia, “knives, guns ...now you’re giving us swords? Telling us about murder plots?” she asked, “you’re arming us to the teeth, O. What’s going down?”

“The Sheidgeda and the Rolkru are both part of the Coalition.” Octavia explained.

“So …they’re allies?” Miller asked carefully.

“They’re turning on each other.” Octavia stated, “The coalition is breaking up. As it will, without Heda. That’s why we moved everyone to Tondc.” She looked around her group a minute, “I’m arming you for war.”

 

\--==--

 

Camp Jaha was empty.

Bellamy stood in the center that morning, looking up at the giant massive silver ring of remains. It was hard to believe that it was once weightless in space. But it wasn’t hard to remember the life he had there, full of fear, full of tension that his baby sister would be found and his mother floated. He lived in constant fear and contention then. He couldn’t remember a day on the Ark without it. He couldn’t remember a day without it down here either. His throat locked as he realized, standing there in the abandoned gray yard of camp Jaha, that he’d been tense and suspicious his whole life. That was all he knew how to do. But was it?

The mountain had shown him what he was made of. He put all he was into making sure everyone got out of there. Everyone, had been his plan, even the Grounders.

_I need to get out of this cage._

_And then what?_

_And then I kill everyone in this mountain._

And they did...

Bellamy ran his hands down his face. It was cold, but he was starting to sweat. He started pacing. The Mountain had been his idea. Clarke got out. He could get in. The reason the Grounder Army kept failing was because they had no middleman to flip the switches inside…

 _If I’m going to take orders from you, I need a better reason._ He had challenged Clarke.

_I can’t loose you too._

-Bellamy heard the small step behind him. Drawing his gun he whirled and found he was aiming at Jasper’s haunted overly happy face. His heart still racing a little he lowered the gun, “what are you doing here?”

Jasper grunted and laughed a little, “I was going to ask you that.”

“You should be at Tondc with the others.” Bellamy replied.

“Really?” Jasper demanded. He snorted and shook his head a little, “hiding? Why not? Yeah. So I guess the whole part about them leaving us to die doesn’t get you? Oh wait, melting people doesn’t so why should that?”

Bellamy stared at him. It was a dig, he knew, and it was working. But he refrained because he knew Jasper was in a bad place, “listen,” he said, “that’s enough.”

“She didn’t have to throw that switch.” Jasper stated, “I was going to…”

“You were what? Going to kill them?” Bellamy dropped his gun and advanced on Jasper now, he grabbed the front of his shirt, “how many do you think you would have taken, two maybe, before you were dead and they were sucking the marrow out of you and then went right back to sucking it out of our friends. That was a brave idea, Jasper, I will give you that. And I wish it could have worked. And nobody in that Mountain could have survived as long as they did, without you. But Jasper!” Bellamy shook him a little and let him go, “my sister was trained by Grounders. They still got her down…” Bellamy backed up a little. As he did he felt a lump in his throat at the bright shine of tears in Jasper’s eyes, “none of us wanted Maya to die. I didn’t, and neither did Clarke.”

“She killed her. She killed them all."

“Stop blaming this on Clarke. She wasn’t the only one to pull that switch. I did too.” He turned away and sighed heavily, “we did what we had to do.”

“I hate hearing that.” Jasper’s tone was still hoarse, but calmer now, "that's all they ever say."

“I hate saying it. It doesn’t sound …good enough a reason for people to die.” Bellamy admitted, “but if anyone did this, Jasper,” he said at last, “it was them. They wouldn’t let our people go. Not even when Kane offered for us to donate to them. They were deadset on ripping it out of our bones. So if anyone pulled that switch they pulled it on themselves…” the words trailed off into silence. Bellamy felt his back stiffen. He turned away then and sighed heavily.

"Yeah." Behind him Jasper whispered, "I want to believe that but..."

"Then believe it." Bellamy replied. Believe what you want, he had almost said. But he had a feeling that was exactly what Jasper wanted to hear, so he could go on blaming everyone else because he needed someone to blame and attack and he couldn't attack people who were already dead. Maybe that's what this was. Maybe not. But Bellamy refused to feed Jasper's anger. How could he, when he was angry too? Maybe he should sort his own shit out before trying to tackle someone else's.

Clarke didn't make the Grounder army leave...

Several tense, quiet minutes passed. Finally Jasper changed the subject to something else, "do you really think Grounders will over run this place?" Even if it wasn't the best of topic. It wasn't the one that got them into a shouting match.

Bellamy couldn't answer though. He couldn't answer anything anymore right now. Because he just didn't know. He did know one thing however:

Octavia thought they would.

 

\--==--

 

Aneth noticed Kanor and Linden talking in the hall just outside the door when she stepped through it into the room. They fell quiet as she entered. But she did not care. The throne sat empty in its place. She went up to Indra who waited beside it. She stopped and that was all it took. Indra moved around the side of the room and stepped onto the balcony outside. Polis lay spread out far below them. They stopped at the edge, but would not look at each other. Instead, they looked out over the city. At last Indra asked, “the boy?”

“My scouts have nothing.” She answered, “They have been searching the Dead Zone.”

“And the name Okan?”

“We have been looking through registries. So far, nothing. Not Azgeda, not Wasgroun.”

“You are searching them all?” Indra asked turning to her at last.

Aneth nodded, “yes. But Indra there is something else.”

“Speak.”

“It has been just over a week. It has never taken this long. Especially after Skaldakru left here. We are going to have to start testing the girls without him.”

“If they fail, when all the tests are done, they die.” Indra answered.

Aneth nodded again, “that is the way it has always been, sha. But Heda might have chosen one of them. We need Heda, especially if the Skaldakru is any indication.”

Indra turned back to Polis far below them. It was quiet, down there. Far far too quiet as though everything was just on pause, waiting, holding its breath and the absolute truth of it was simply that, everything was, “okay,” she said at last, “we start in the morning. Get word out. Start it now.”

“Sha, Indra.” Aneth replied. Without another word she turned away from Indra and went back inside. Kanor and Linden had not moved when she went into the hall. She passed them as though it was nothing.

Linden watched the Nomakru leader go by and vanish from their sight. A few tense seconds past before he looked over at Kanor, “I don’t know when they plan to start testing the girls. But your Boy had better show up soon. If he’s there.”

“He is.” Kanor replied.

“Have you seen him?” Linden asked.

“No.” Kanor replied, “but I have seen his bloodshed. He is-” he stopped abruptly then as Indra came out of the room and passed through them without saying a word and disappeared. If the air had been tense when Aneth had passed through them it only worsened now. At last Kanor pushed off the wall and stared the direction Indra had gone. Without looking he said, “did you know there are rumors that claim when Heda Lexa was very small she was found by Indra in the woods?”

“I did not.” Linden replied.

“Hmmm.” Kanor muttered, “must be difficult for you, only coming out at night, Linden, you miss out on so many things.”

“We make do.” Linden answered coldly, “What are you getting at here, Kanor? Is your boy real or not?”

“He’s real enough...” Kanor answered.

“But?” Linden asked sharply.

“But I’ve found myself wondering these past few days,” Kanor answered turning to Linden at last, “what if Heda Lexa is not dead?”


	31. Blindspot

“Lexa,” Clarke scolded, carefully she plaited the strands of the little braid together, “stop that.” She had found clothes in the dresser, black jeans, black tank top and a gray cardigan sweater to pull over the top. She had also cut a brown shirt up into small ties. Lexa’s robe had been in the bag of her things. She wore this as she sat on the floor of their room in front of Clarke, scratching at her skin. She stopped when Clarke asked. At least for the moment.

 _“Can you put in my braids, Clarke?”_ Lexa had asked earlier that morning.

Clarke knew she could. She knew what Lexa’s braids looked like by heart. They had been at it for a while now. But they were almost done. Clarke tied the braid off. Picked up her knife to cut the ends of the tie down to nothing, move the braid into place with the others, tied it off there and cut the ends again. Lexa started scratching at her arms again. Clarke separated three more tiny strands of her hair out, “I mean it Lexa, stop.”

“It itches, Clarke.” Lexa glared back at her, she scratched at her legs a second more and stopped, “I think it was the soap.”

“Maybe,” Clarke answered as she started the next braid, “some chemicals can cause irritation but I used the same soap. I think it’s your skin cells proliferating.”

Lexa had lifted a hand to scratch at her arm but she stopped short, “my skin cells are doing _what_?” she looked quickly toward Clarke.

Clarke might have laughed at the uncertain look on Lexa’s face but she knew for Lexa the question was serious, “proliferating,” she answered, “rapidly increasing in numbers.”

“Oh.” Lexa answered, she turned back around and started scratching at her arms again.

Out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw red claw marks rising on Lexa’s arms. She stopped braiding and grabbed Lexa’s hand, “and if you don’t stop scratching they will have to start all over again!”

Lexa dropped her arms and glared back at her. She pulled in several deep breaths and grew still. Clarke glanced at her and smiled despite herself. The mighty Heda was pouting. Well, _scowling_ was probably much more accurate. It didn’t matter which. Because at least she had stopped scratching, “thank you.” Clarke said, and turned her attention back to braiding. She tied that one off, and moved it into place, cut the ends of the tie and had barely started another when out of the corner of her eye she saw Lexa scratching at her wrists again. Clarke inhaled under her breath but for now kept braiding, “Lexa?” she asked.

“Sha?”

“You know those gloves you have?” Clarke asked, “the cute little skeleton ones without the fingers?”

“That’s not what they are called,” Lexa answered slowly, as though cautious as if she were trying to understand where Clarke might be going with this. She also slid an eye back to Clarke and said, “and they’re not cute.”

Clarke tied the end of the braid and moved it into it’s place, “oh they’re freakin’ adorable.” She cut the ends of the tie off.

“They are not.”

“Oh yes they are.” Clarke replied. Just for good measure since they were on Lexa’s choice of fashion statements she leaned in and flicked a finger at the cuff of Lexa’s robe, “and so are these little ruffles.”

Lexa looked at her wrists quickly and then turned fully to Clarke, “they are not adorable.”

“They so are.” Clarke argued, turning Lexa’s head around for her she started combing out strands for the next braid, “but anyway, that’s not the point. The point is if you don’t stop scratching I will find you some gloves that do have fingers.” Clarke started the braid. In front of her, Lexa was silent as though she was trying to find a smart reaction to that. At last she heaved a sigh and folded her arms, “that’s foolish, Clarke.”

“So is ripping up your skin.”

”Clarke-“

“Skin that I just healed??” Clarke emphasized.

“Fine.” Lexa relented, folding her arms she rolled her eyes, “but if my skin is proliferating this badly you will rub me down with the oil later.”

“I will, huh?” Clarke asked back. She was having a hard time keeping herself from laughing as she started the last of the smaller braids. Somehow she managed to pull of a deadpan, “your wish is my command, Heda.” She said. Lexa stayed quiet but Clarke saw the corner of her mouth turn up in a small amused smile. Finishing the little braid she tied it off, moved it into place, sat back a little and looked over her handiwork. All that was left were the thicker braids Lexa wore to the side of her neck. Clarke started to comb through Lexa’s hair for the strands to make them with, “when is Indra due back?” she asked.

“Two days from now.” Lexa answered. She looked over at Clarke briefly then said, “When she told you about the jus tri she knew you would take me. She had some reasons. I need to know them. One way or another war is coming now. I need to be back in Polis somehow.” _Without them killing me._ The words went unspoken but they both knew they were there the same.

Clarke slid the comb through carefully one more time before she set it down and started forming the long braid, “I think,” Clarke began, “that is partly what Indra was hoping to do by telling me about the tree. Trying to stop a war?”

“By taking the army’s commander away? That does not stop a war, Clarke,” Lexa folded her arms, “it only starts one.”

“Maybe she’s trying to stop a war that’s already here?” Clarke asked, “you said it yourself, the Coalition is breaking. So that war is here.” She tied off the braid, cut the ends of the tie and started another long braid right next to it.

“Sha.” Lexa answered regretfully, “I have been fooling myself. It could not handle the strain from what happened at the Mountain.”

Clarke felt herself tense up at the mention of the Mountain, “yeah.” She said. She cleared her throat a little and stopped braiding when Lexa’s hand found hers. Clarke looked up to see Lexa looking at her, “my people have deemed me a traitor, Clarke, for taking a deal with an enemy who drained their blood for generations.” Clarke stayed tense though, without speaking, for several seconds. She knew her fingers had turned cold as ice in Lexa’s warm ones. At last Lexa said, “You also have to face the Mountain someday, Clarke.”

“Someday, maybe.” Clarke swallowed tightly and studied her eyes, “not today.”

Lexa studied her a second more, in that way she did that told you she was actually hearing everything you weren’t saying or didn’t want to say. Finally she nodded once and gently released her hand. Clarke finished up the second long braid. She looked at it a second. Lexa had noticed it too. She reached up and touched the new braid in her hair, “this one is too many.” She said, her eyes searched Clarke’s as though searching for a reason.

Clarke’s quiet reaction was to reach down and pick up the single light blue tie she had cut. Without a word she used it to tie off the braid in question. She cut the ends of the tie and let it fall back into the rest of Lexa’s hair. Clarke sat back on her knees, looked at the new braid and explained, “This one is mine.”

Lexa studied her a second, but only just that, before she reached up and touched the braid, “then I’ll wear it proudly.” She said. She reached out then and trailed her fingertips down from Clarke’s hairline to the ends of her hair, “yours has grown longer. I only wish I could braid it as well.”

“Maybe someday,” Clarke answered. She offered Lexa a small smile and caught at her hand, “speaking of, come on.” She said, pushing to her feet she pulled Lexa up with her, “I noticed something last night,” she began. Clarke stepped back, “with your arms.”

“With my arms?” Lexa asked.

Clarke put her arms out at her sides even with her shoulders like a T, “just do this?”

Lexa smirked but did it. Clarke nodded, “good.” She said slowly. Lexa’s eyes looked back at her and they both knew what Clarke was going to ask next, “Now...” Clarke demonstrated by putting her arms over her head.

Lexa tightened her jaw and lifted her arms up and over her head.

She might have broke into smiles even before Clarke did, “Klark!” She said, and went to her and grabbed her quickly around the waist to hug her.

“I know.” Clarke smiled into her hair, “I know.” Lexa hadn’t been able to do that last time they had tried it. Clarke pulled back then and looked around and found her bone dagger lying on the floor. She picked it up and brought it to Lexa who was still smiling, “now this?” she offered the knife out handle first.

Lexa took it. Clarke was holding her breath as she watched Lexa shift her fingers around on the handle, trying to tighten, trying for a grip she just couldn’t find. Finally she shook her head just a little, “no.”

Clarke smiled at her softly, “not yet Leksa.” She said, “but you got your arms.” She reminded, wanting to see Lexa smile again. Clarke took the knife from her, “your hands just might need a little more time.”

“Sha.” Lexa said, and she did smile.

“So Indra will be back in two days?” Clarke asked, she went the dresser and put the knife down, “how are we going to do this? Polis? All of it?”

Lexa paused for a second as though considering it and in doing so Clarke saw more of Heda than she had in a while, “I’ve been thinking about it and I have an idea.” Lexa began. She went toward their bed and the bag of her things on it and started sorting though it, “these things are usually paid in blood, Clarke, this time mine.” She took out a black shirt laid it on the bed, knit shorts and the knit band that went around her chest.

A lump rose in Clarke’s throat as the night at the Blood Tree flashed through her mind; Lexa hanging limp in chains, her precious blood mixed with rain draining down every inch of her body, blood and rain dripping from her hair and down from her arms and hands. Suddenly Clarke felt sick again. Quickly though, she swallowed it down, “I’d say they got it.” She answered. But Lexa said nothing. Clarke asked, “How much did they bleed you, Lexa?” She cleared her throat, “how did ..when.. when I got there how were you even alive?”

Lexa slipped her robe off and placed it on the bed, “every morning,” she began, “they would come and take me from the tree. They would take me inside, feed me, clean some of the cuts, and allow me to rest until night. Except the last two nights they did not do this. Then I knew the time was close.”

“Why?” Clarke asked, her brow furrowed a little in the middle and then the realization hit, “they were letting your body build more blood?” Lexa, still not looking at her, offered one single nod. Picking Lexa’s pants up from the floor where they had left them the night before she came forward until she was where Lexa was and put them on the bed with her other things, “So there was enough of you to go around?” She was angry and she knew it was reflecting in her voice.

“Sha.” Lexa answered at last, looking over at her, “exactly that. Then, they would take me back to the tree.”

Clarke felt her stomach turn knowing for sure now what she had suspected all along, they had intentionally been both killing and healing her. She inhaled deeply angry with the people who did this, but not Lexa. She took up the shorts thinking not for the first time how much they were similar to what the Grounder prisoners wore in the mountain except that the color was black instead of white. Clarke shoved that thought away, “let’s get these things on.”

Lexa looked at her then nodded once. She put an arm around Clarke’s neck and stepped into the shorts and Clarke pulled them up her legs. Clothes off was easy. But to pull clothes on you actually had to grip them. Clarke reached for the knit band and both did smile a little when Lexa was able to left her arms to help get it over her head. Clarke slid it into place around her chest. She reached for the pants and held them out. For some reason dressing Lexa in real clothing even with everything that had happened between them was a little bit tense. Clarke wasn’t sure what that was. Maybe it was just because it was one of those gray personal areas you didn’t really think about. Clarke tried to lighten the mood if she could, at least if only for a minute, “these too. You’re really good at wearing the pants in this family, anyhow.”

Lexa’s wrinkled her forehead in confusion, “I have no idea what you mean by that.” But she did still smile as though the confusion itself was enough.

Clarke couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, “I’ll explain another time. Come on.”

Lexa was still looking at her as though she’d lost her mind. Still, putting an arm back around Clarke’s neck she stepped into the pants and Clarke pulled them up her legs. She did up the laces and tied them. Clarke reached for the shirt Lexa had pulled out, “None of your cuts were bigger than my smallest finger, Lexa.” She said holding the shirt in her hands, “and I’ve seen this execution before, with Gustus.”

“They were not allowed to make cuts larger than that, not on me.” Lexa replied. Clarke grunted, “arms?” she asked. Lexa put her arms up over her head and Clarke pulled the shirt over them and tugged it down. Lexa dropped her arms. So did Clarke. Lexa finished matter-of-factly, “you said it best. There had to be enough of me to go around.”

“That’s what I thought.” Clarke growled softly. She watched Lexa’s eyes sadden softly and Clarke shook her head, reached up and trailed her thumb back and forth over Lexa’s cheekbone, “why not your face?” it was a whisper. She had to ask. But she was sure already she did not want the answer. But she needed to hear it anyway.

“My head was supposed to hang on the Tri with the others. It needed to stay recognizable.”

“Others?” Clarke asked. This was Lexa, so much more closely to looking like she best knew her, “your real coat isn’t here.” She explained thinking this. She looked to the black one on the bed and looked back at her again.

“It’s Heda’s.” Lexa answered just as softly as though that was explanation enough.  “it wouldn’t be.” She searched through the bag and took out a pair of socks. Turning back to Clarke Lexa sat on the edge of their bed and returned to their previous topic, “did you not look up at the Tri? It is where they hang the skulls and the bones of Commanders who’s fights end there.”

“No, I was looking at you.” Clarke answered. But then she remembered Indra or Kaia or someone who was in on this telling her that two other Commander’s had died this way. Clarke’s voice fractured a little, “how long?” she asked quietly, “Lexa, how long were you up there?” She took the socks from her and rolled one on first, then the other. She looked up at Lexa to see her face was quiet as though she knew Clarke wasn’t going to like the answer, “Lexa?’

“A week.” She said at last, “a day less? Maybe a day more? I really don’t know for sure.” Lexa slid off the bed. She reached out and threaded her fingertips into Clarke’s hair near her face and settled the them gently at the back of Clarke’s head, “when we leave here,” she said seriously, searching Clarke’s eyes, “there will be a kill order on my head.”

A week. Clarke’s throat closed off for a second and it was difficult to swallow when she tried to clear the nausea. They had intentionally let Lexa suffer and tortured her for a week. Clarke’s lips felt dry. She wet them. But she was confused about the kill order, “but how can there be when they think you’re dead?”

Lexa’s entire gentle nature dropped. She pulled her hand out of Clarke’s hair and retracted away from her almost immediately, “they think I’m dead?” Her voice was both flat, and trying to understand. She searched Clarke’s eyes slowly as though bitten, and Clarke felt her whole stomach twist up. She had forgotten to tell her. _Oh God._ Lexa demanded, “Clarke?”

Clarke felt herself start to crumble away inside. All she could manage was a single quiet nod, “yes.”

Lexa’s mouth opened just a fraction, as though she was in shock. She stared at Clarke hard and took a step back, “and you didn’t tell me this?”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke answered. She searched for a way to try and explain, “I didn’t mean-“

“You need to go downstairs, Clarke.” Lexa said her voice was even but her eyes showed restrained anger.

Clarke reached toward her, “Lexa, I-”

Lexa pulled back from her reach, “go!” Her command voice.

Lexa had never used that voice on her.

Clarke flinched and stopped where she was. She stared back at Lexa for a second before gulping for air, for anything to stop this from happening. Clarke lifted her chin, “I didn’t mean to forget.” She whispered, “I am sorry.” She said, and then turned slowly and went out the door.

She felt Lexa’s eyes on her even after she left the room. She felt them on her until she had turned the corner of the door and started down the stairs. Her legs felt like jelly. Everything inside her ached. She wanted to run back up the stairs and the same time she couldn’t bear for Lexa to pull away from her again.

It was only at the bottom of the stairs at last that Clarke let herself sink to the floor. It felt like she left so many pieces of herself upstairs.

Her body was in far too much shock to even think of tears.


	32. You Are So Weak

Drone. Little buzzy red thing somewhere up in the sky.

He knew it was up there still, flying around. He had first seen it getting off the boat ride he’d paid out a glittery coaster for.

He saw it again when he rode _around_  where the minefield was.

He would stop the bike to shoot it but that would waste a bullet, and he didn’t even know if it would work. As long as the drone didn’t get near him, John didn’t care. Eventually he’d be out of the range of Allie’s reach. Which should be happening any time now, or so John hoped.

Dune after dune of sand. Each one looking just like the one before it. He probably hadn’t seen this much sand in his life, which was, he realized, stupid to think because he was born in space and this was as much sand as he had ever seen in the first place. But it all looked the same, everything did. He hadn’t paid too particularly too much attention in his Earth Skills class because Earth was a place he never expected to be going to and was probably riding around in circles for all he knew. Emory, just before she had bashed him in the head, had told him to go North to reach the City of Light. He had planned on going the exact opposite of that. The problem was, finding North had been Jaha’s thing. He, however, had no clue which way North was. Wherever he was going he knew he already had so much more of this forsaken desert already behind him -thanks to the bike- than he would ever cover trying to make it out of the place on foot. He might make it out, he thought. He scanned for a tree line. One had to be close. But saw only hills of sand and blue sky.

So, he thought stopping the bike long enough to look behind him for the damn drone. Sure enough, it was there and sure enough, it sailed higher into the sky becoming a small black speck, as soon as he had spotted it. If he was going in circles then he knew he wasn’t going to get out of the range of the damn thing any time soon. And he also knew that, through that drone, Jaha was getting updates on where he was.

He wanted nothing to do with Jaha. But he didn’t have a lot going on for him at the Ark either. What could he do? Go back and tell them he found the place where the world exploded, what caused it to explode, and that now ex-chancellor Jaha was friends with it? “Yeah, they’d believe that.” He muttered. The thing was, if it came from anyone else, like Clarke or Bellamy or even Octavia – they might believe it. But the other thing was, he didn’t care.

He stared up at the drone. Maybe he should waste a bullet. Shutting off the bike John got off of it and lowered it into the sand. Looking up he took a few steps forward and pulled the gun out of his waistband. He took aim. He pulled back the hammer, “goodb-”

“-h…” a voice rasped. He turned back around abruptly and re-centered his gun on a single, form struggling and slipping down the rise of sand in front of him. But they were not threat, whoever it was. They were falling all over themselves and grabbing at the scarf around their neck. John rolled his eyes but he did not put the gun away. He remembered Emory and her cart and he wasn’t about to let someone take his bike. Still, as the figure stumbled and reached at him again across the space between them he watched as whoever it was fell face first down into the sand and then rolled to the bottom of the dune to splay out lifeless and still. “Yeah…”John muttered to himself, his lips were dry. He knew better than to just believe this. Gun still ready he slowly approached. Ten feet away, the form still hadn’t moved. Five feet away he could tell it was female. Two feet her turned her over and jumped back as her head tipped back revealing a gaping slash in her throat. John scrambled away, falling and scrambling backward as he did. He pushed to his feet and pulled the gun out, aiming it at where the woman had fallen he turned in a slow circle because he knew that women didn’t just slash their own throats and stumble down a hill…

“Wanheda.” A voice just behind him snarled in a low breath. John turned fast as he could to see the speaker walking down another hill. Grounder, he realized, twice John’s size, covered in furs even though they were in a desert and carried two bloodied swords, one in each of his hands, smears of blood ran up his arms, covered his clothes and more blood was smeared into face, trailing tear-like red streaks down from his eyes. The Grounder stopped walking and stood still after just a few feet. Then the swords did not scare him as much as the insane black look in the Grounder’s eyes did eyes did. John didn’t flinch because the Grounder didn't move. John kept the gun pointed at the Grounder, even if his hold on it wasn’t firm as he would have wanted and even if his hand shook he still asked, “Wan-who?”

“in ai stegeda.”

“Ah, yeah…” John said, “I don’t speak Grounder, so…”

With a growl that John could hear clear from across the sand the Grounder raised one of his swords and charged.

John fired.

It seemed like slow motion, what was going to happen first, if the bullet would reach his target or if the Grounder’s sword would slice through his throat. He watched as the Grounder opened his mouth wider in a yell that probably would shatter his ears if sound hadn’t seemed to slow as well. At ten feet from him, John lowered his gun. At five feet he felt it drop from his hand… he saw the sword start to swing so slowly it might have been frozen in freeze frames of old films, clicking one after another, so slowly through the air. Then a bright blossom of red exploded from the grounder’s chest. And time sped up to normal again as the grounder was thrown back by the force of the bullet to crash with a thud into the sand.

John was still frozen where he was, watching as blood pooled out from under the body. He picked up his gun and took a step closer, “yeah,” he said to the body, “Wanheda.” He grunted. He started to turn. He saw a flash of red at the corner of his eye. The drone buzzed right up in his face, he swatted at it but it was too close. A flash of light so bright shot through his face, so bright it seemed to reverberate though every cell in his body, so bright he was dizzy and blind and stumbled trying to get away but fell all over sand and even though still seeing only white, he flipped on his back and tried to scramble away from the buzzing sound of the drone. But the noise of the drone suddenly sped away from him. Gold spots were starting to appear in the white clouding his eyes as he lay on the sand. The gold turned to blue after a few seconds more and he was looking up at last at the sky with only a very slight ringing in his ears. John looked around him, left to the dead woman, right to the dead man. He made a face because his mouth was full of sand. Scrambling to his feet he found his backpack on the bike. Opened it up, pulled out one of the bottles of wine, uncorked it and drank several swallows of it down. He corked the bottle. He shoved it back in his bag and stood up. The woman was of no consequence to him but he went to where the dead man lay and tapped him with the toe of his boot to be sure he was dead. John grunted in disgust, realizing in fact the Grounder was indeed dead, “yu laik so kwel.” He spat on him. Then, reaching down, he stripped the body of the two swords and strapped them onto himself. Going back to his bike he righted it, got onto it, and started it up. John looked at the sky and set off over the sand. Because, yeah, he knew exactly which way to go now.


	33. On the Same Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even apart it seems siblings sometimes think alike. Bellamy has a plan for the abandoned camp Jaha; while far north of him, Octavia is afraid she was right...

The mid-mid afternoon sun made things brighter but not that much more clear. He had built the fire for heat in the pit at the center of Camp Jaha and it was strange seeing the place empty like this. He could hear the metal creak when the wind blew slightly. Sitting on a rock near the fire Bellamy watched tent flaps blow on that wind. He wasn’t expecting the canvas bag to drop at his feet. Bellamy looked up as it did to see Jasper sink down onto the rock next to his, “you should eat.” Jasper said, pointing to the bag.

Bellamy’s throat felt tight as he looked at the bag, because it was an indication that Jasper had been forced onto the path that led from being a follower to being a leader. He had been forced to know what to do in order to stay alive. Bellamy himself had chosen that path and this bag at his feet reminded him that some things will never be the same. Jasper was sitting with him doing what a leader did, making sure people had food. Bellamy reached out and took the bag. Opening it he shuffled through various contents until he found a meal bar. Taking it out he tossed it at Jasper, whom, even though he seemed not to be paying much attention caught it easy in one hand. Also a sign that he’d taken that path from follower to leader, to be paying attention to everything even when it seemed he was not looking. Bellamy said nothing though. He dug through the bag again, found another meal bar, tore the wrapper open and bit nearly half of it off.

It tasted like cardboard, well, it tasted like what he suspected cardboard would taste like. But then, a lot of the food he ate tasted this way before the Ark came to ground. So he was use to this taste. Bellamy looked over at Jasper whom had only taken one small bite from his own bar. A bite that even now seemed stuck in Jasper’s throat. Bellamy swallowed, “thanks.”

“Yeah,” Jasper mumbled, “don’t mention it.”

Bellamy took another bite, chewed and swallowed it down. He was never close to Jasper. But after going through what they had gone through in the Mountain together maybe they were the only ones who really understood each other now and maybe that was why they were both sitting in the middle of the abandoned camp instead of at Tondc with the others. Bellamy spoke up, “its weird seeing it empty like this.”

“It’s never been completely empty. Not since before each separate station was being put together in space.” Jasper said. Bellamy nodded, because maybe that was why it seemed so strange that the Ark, finally, held no life at all. It just lay there like the stripped carcass of steel it was after having given its all and then some to keep the people dependent on it alive. Jasper spoke up again, “I always thought we’d rename it one day.” Jasper finished the last half of his meal bar first actually by shoving the whole thing in his mouth. He tossed the wrapper into the fire behind them.

Bellamy finished his as well and also tossed the wrapper into the fire, “if she’d right about this, we’re all in danger.” Bellamy said at last. He didn’t have to clarify who ‘she’ was. They both knew. That was why she sent them all to Tondc, the village that had taken the fall out of everything from a massacre to a missile, “that village has been through hell already.” He wasn’t so much as siding with them. He didn’t think he ever could after the Mountain. But he was stating a fact because his people were there now.

“They are turning us into Grounders.” Jasper said.

“No.” Bellamy replied, “Earth is doing that. You know if someone wants us dead bad enough they’ll attack that village anyway. Clans are starting to not matter.”

There was a heavy pause after that. Finally Jasper said, “I didn’t do what I did in the Mountain just to let everyone die out here. If we die now, all those people, Maya, they died for nothing.” The words were a broken but steady whisper. And when Bellamy looked over at Jasper, Jasper was pale and his hands were trembling. Bellamy looked away, “me either.”

Another stretch of uncomfortable silence followed. Bellamy looked around the empty camp. If someone wanted it, they could just walk in and take it now. Hell, he thought --if someone had wanted it and Abby and Kane hadn’t moved the others to Tondc—they could have taken it anyway. Bellamy knew in that second he was more like his sister at times than he was willing to admit, “we blow it up.” He said.

“What?”

“We blow up Camp Jaha.” Bellamy repeated, “An army wouldn’t come here to fight us. They would come here to slaughter us because they would know we don’t have the numbers for a fight. They would strike us down as an example of their power and then,” Bellamy looked around them, “they would use Camp Jaha as a staging area and attack Tondc.”

“So we blow it up.” Jasper said, “make it harder for them to do that.”

“Yes.”

“And then what?” Jasper asked, “We just go back to Tondc? Wait with the others? Wait to be attacked?”

“No.” Bellamy answered, “then we keep looking for the other Ark stations and get back up from them. Because if Octavia is right, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“They’ve been looking for months.” Jasper pointed out, “They have no idea where they are.”

“So we keep looking,” Bellamy said, “they aimed for this area, Kane said. When they decided to bring the Ark down to Earth. So we keep looking for them and we find them.”

“More fighting.” Jasper said.

“Yeah, ever since you were speared.”

“You wanted to kill me.”

“You wouldn’t stop screaming.”

“Did you ever get a spear thrown through your chest?” Jasper asked point blank.

“No, and I’m sorry, okay. I’m glad you didn’t die. I’m am even more glad my sister wouldn’t let me kill you.”

Jasper just grunted. Then he asked, “What did you do to get put on the drop-ship anyway?”

Bellamy stood up, “Does it matter?”

Jasper stood up too, “yes.”

“I shot someone.” Bellamy replied. He watched Jasper’s face close up. So Bellamy took that second of silence to add, “but he didn’t die. I told I was a bad shot.” Jasper still was staring at him though making Bellamy look away, _yeah, me._ He wanted to say, _Not only was I going to kill you but I was also trying to kill people before we ever even got down here, so, I should fit right in with the locals._ He could tell that the real reason was not even close to what Jasper might have been expecting. Jasper stole flowers and landed on the drop-ship, wasn’t it? He thought he’d heard that but he wasn’t sure.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do,” Bellamy said, he started off across the abandoned camp not sure if Jasper was going to come with him or not now, “we have to go back to the Mountain.”

“Why?” Jasper’s voice had a slight tremble in it, maybe from Bellamy’s confession but most probably from thoughts of having to go into the Mountain but after a few seconds he came up to Bellamy’s side anyway.

“Because Raven isn’t here.” Bellamy answered, “and we are going to need a hell of a lot of explosives.”

 

\--==--

 

Sunset was orange and red and utterly beautiful. Octavia was sure she could never stop watching them if given a choice. But sunset also meant they had only about an hour of daylight left and at this pace they were about 5 hours from Polis. They could push and make it tonight, but the closer they grew to the capitol the odds increased that they might run across other Clans and Skaikru were not high on the list of favorite people for some, and everything about Raven, Wick, Harper and Monty screamed Skaikru at the top of its lungs.

She had been taking them further off the beaten path the further they had moved north and the trees were very very dense where they were. Octavia pulled her horse to a stop, “okay we’re stopping here.” She said, deciding at last. The others pulled to a stop. She saw they were tired. She saw they were irritable. But she saw they had determination so she gave them something to go on, “Polis is just a few hours from here. We will reach it in the morning.” Octavia got off her horse.

“Thank God.” Raven groaned. Octavia moved to help her off her horse. Monty was down next to her in a second. He was taking well to riding. Harper and Miller dropped to the ground last. The fact was, they all were. At some point they had stopped allowing their horses just to follow and actually started to guide them. “Okay, remember no fires this close to the city.” Octavia said to them, she watched as they started getting wraps of food, “we don’t want anyone to see us.”

“Got it, boss.” Wick said to her. He tossed her a brown bag, “eat.”

“Thanks,” she said to him.

“chof.” Wick answered.

Octavia smiled, “actually, the word for you’re welcome is _pro_. Chof is thanks. But you’re getting there. 'A' for effort. So,” she said, “I’ve got first watch. Harper, you’re up in three hours.”

“Yup.” Harper said, she was already seated though and unwrapping food. Octavia watched as she passed the food off to Raven who was just starting to sit next to her. Monty was standing, waiting. He glanced back the way they came, “I take this side?” he asked, he was also on watch.

“Sure, I got North.” Octavia agreed, then she set off.

She didn’t go far, she could still hear her 'kru' behind her even, as she stopped atop the next rise and leaned into a tree. From here she could see a good four or five rises down into the forest below. She knew this place was border to a lake, or a river, or sea just by the downward slope of the land. Even if she’d never been in this exact part of these woods before. She opened the bag Wick had tossed her and pulled out the hard roll and a flask of water. She drank water first and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It would be a long three hours, but this was nothing she never had done, in fact, with Indra, she had often had stood post half a night if not more. But maybe at least she could watch the sunset. The sky was mostly red now, as the sun sank lower into the trees. She took another drink, watching down the hill, watching wind through the trees down the hillsides below. She was still drinking from the water when something in them moved and pulled her attention.

The movement took shape and a small army appeared on the hillsides far below in front of her eyes. Octavia choked on the water, she spit it out. She slipped behind the tree she was near, gaged her path and took off.  Octavia closed the small distance back to the others as fast as her feet could carry her, “get up. “she told them, without stopping to recognize their surprise to see her, “get on the horses now.”

Miller was pushing to his feet, “what ..why?”

“Get on the damn horses,” Octavia was pulling Raven’s horse over. Then she took off and closed the distance to where Monty was standing, looking tired and bored, and grabbed his shoulder. He jumped a mile and turned. She just grabbed his arm and pulled him along until they were back at the others. Thankfully they had listened, Wick had just helped Raven back into her saddle and was quickly getting into his. Monty didn’t need any encouragement. He pulled into his saddle just as Octavia got into hers, “I hope you can run.” She said to them. Then she spun her horse east and took off fast as it could carry her. She glanced back to see at least that her little kru was in fact, following, whether they were leading or not, didn’t matter. Their horses dodged trees as fast as they could cut through them, over and around, up one tangled hillside of trees and down another. Suddenly Octavia had a vague feeling by the change of noise that the ground cover under them had changed now by the sound of her horses hooves to the remains of what was once a road. There was a set of old buildings and walls just ahead buried in trees and shrub and nearly 100 years of dirt that she could see outlines of in the fading light. But they would do. Octavia steered her horse fast as she could toward them, she cleared the first three buildings and didn't pull to a stop until she was behind the cover of a fourth. They should be safe. She hardly had a second to realize that before the other horses came to a stumbling halt beside hers, “stay here.” Octavia said, getting down from her horse.

Miller demanded, “What the hell is going on?” He looked back the way they had come, demanding an explanation.

“There was an army clearing the trees.” She said to them. She looked at each one of them and got down, “stay here. I have to go see who they are.”

“No way.” Monty said. His eyes hardened when she looked at him and he looked back the way they had come, “you’re not going back there alone.” He got off his horse. Miller and Wick and Harper dropped to the ground too.

“Then tie off your horses.” Octavia told them.

“Na,” Raven said, inhaling, “I’ve had enough, today.” She still gave Octavia a reserved smile, “I'll stay.”

Wick spoke up, “I will stay with her.” He helped Raven down again. Raven came over and looked Octavia over, “don’t do anything dumb though.”

“You know me.”

Raven grunted, “yeah I know.  Exactly.”

"I'll be fine." Octavia answered, then carefully started back the way they had just come.  She checked the corner of each building as they came to them. It was nearly dark and so by the time they arrived at the trees again she wasn’t sure if they’d see anything. She hugged trees, glad that the others had learned to copy this and also did so. They had been on Earth long enough to know how to be quiet. Tree after tree, breath after breath, they closed to the top of the last rise she had sped on horseback down. And there, she dropped to the ground instantly, “Azgeda.” She whispered the same time she digested what army she was seeing. They were some distance away probably a good fifty paces. But they filed through the trees quietly but boldly, in a large mass as though they didn’t fear a thing. Octavia was wiping her mouth out of nervousness without even thinking about it. Marching this freely over Trikru land was grounds for war. She looked at the others and saw them looking at her. But they had no idea what this means. Maybe, though, maybe, these Azgeda were just close because of the capitol. But right as she thought it she felt her stomach sink because she could not convince herself by that. Even if they were here because of Polis, they were supposed to _stay_ at the capitol… not be marching in loose formation like this out here.  Octavia whispered, "shit."  Now would be a really good time to have a radio...

“Where are they going?” Monty asked under his breath.

That, was what also worried Octavia. Polis was west, where this army should be. But this army was heading south. It was hard to swallow then, because there was only one place south that she knew of that Ice Nation might be interested in, “Camp Jaha.”  She saw the second the three understood.  She saw their face turn to ash.  Slowly she started to back up, "let's get back to the others," she whispered. They weren't going to move forward with a rogue Azgeda army about, "tonight we're staying there."

 


	34. If You Look at the Trees they Reach for the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger subsides. Lexa has some suspicions about Clarke's drawings. Clarke wants to know about Lexa's belief in reincarnation, and how it works for Heda. And then, with that, ready or not domestic bliss must finally end...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> So, for the past several days I've been contemplating adding anything about the black blood of the Commander to this story. The decision to do so won out. I have a few reasons I hope to fit into the story but mainly, well, check the title of this work ^ trust me.
> 
> Also, this chapter touches more than lightly on reincarnation. I try not to have one concept or another carry the whole weight of the story. But in this chapter, all things considered, ((and knowing full well the writers on this show could take it any direction they wish)) it plays a pretty big part. I hope I managed both it and fitting the black blood in well.
> 
> Take care, everyone, out there.  
> -DistantStar
> 
> \--==--

Evening had come. The warm colors of it were dancing gold patterns across the insides of Lexa’s closed eyes as she knelt on the outside balcony. Just like the patterns of the words she had been tracing over and over in her mind since that morning, _if you look at the trees, they reach for the sky. There are some things you don’t know about. Some things you can never understand until you experience them._ She wasn’t thinking the words in their proper order but in the order that she needed to, _Taim yu gon tri emo kom skai._ Finally though in the light of the setting sun she opened her eyes at last. Feeling calm enough to talk to Clarke she pushed up from her knees and went back inside.

_Taim yu gon tri emo kom skai._

Lexa started down the stairs. She was about to call out to Clarke when she reached the last step. But instead she came to an abrupt stop as she saw all of the walls in the lower room of the house had been turned into a panorama of different shades of black, gray and off-yellow white. Apparently Clarke had spent the whole day drawing, filling in what until now had been tall outlines and sharp angles and lines. It wasn’t that she’d spent the whole day drawing that brought Lexa to a stand still though. It was what Clarke had covered every wall in the room with that had.

Monoliths.

Several of them on each wall, reaching up from the wood of the floor nearly to the ceiling. Clean hard lines cut the rectangle shapes, cracks and lines and uneven top surfaces had been drawn onto them. Behind them and staggered between them a second row of more distant monoliths had been drawn, beyond that a line of trees and forest, then mountains and sky.

Lexa rubbed gooseflesh from her arms as quickly as it rose. Because for one eerie moment it felt like she was standing in the Ring of Stones and worse, the fact that Clarke had drawn this, all but made Lexa’s breath stop in her throat. It was time. It was time for the talk she’d been dreading nearly since they met especially with what had happened that morning.

_Some things can only be drawn in blood._

But apparently, sometimes, they could also be drawn in charcoal.

Lexa steepled her hands together in front of her mouth and breathed out slowly, willing the adrenaline to leave her body with her breath. It hardly worked. But the scratching sound from the far corner pulled her attention away from the sight of the monoliths. She looked over and saw Clarke on the floor in that corner, quickly shading in the bottom half of one of the last stones in. Lexa exhaled, and was about to say something, but then she realized that Clarke was deep in her own little world right now and she didn’t even know that she was here. Blonde hair dragged through bits of charcoal and cloth on the floor as she worked, making the ends black. Lexa was realizing that Clarke probably would always have her hands covered in some kind of medium, be it paint or coal or ink or oil or whatever she might find to create art with as long as she was able to do it. And standing there Lexa was also realizing that if Clarke wanted to color on walls she’d let her do so all over the tower so that Clarke could forever enjoy creating her worlds and Lexa could enjoy just being surrounded by them. Finally though, artwork had to be put aside, at least for the moment. Lexa stepped down from the last step and onto the wooden floor of the room and softly said, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Clarke’s hand slowed as she stopped filling in her drawing. Equally slowly, she set the piece of charcoal down on the floor. Lexa felt a lump in her throat, standing there, watching Clarke whom had grown incredibly still while staring down at the charcoal on the boards of the floor. At last Clarke turned her head to look at her. After a second of just that, she turned fully and sat down against a still blank portion of the plaster wall, “okay.” She said. But Clarke’s blue eyes still had a little bit of hesitation in them as they looked her over. At last Clarke looked at her face, “but there is one thing.”

“Name it.” Lexa said abruptly. Right now, or anytime really, she knew she’d give Clarke anything.

“Never talk to me like that again.”

“Done.” Lexa agreed. But Clarke still hadn’t moved to come to her and she could tell by the density in the room that she also wasn’t quite ready to as of yet. So Lexa inhaled just a little bit and sank down to the bottom step of the stairs and admitted, “I never meant to in the first place. I am sorry for that too.”

“I know you didn’t.” Clarke answered. She reached for the wads of cloth near her and started wiping charcoal off of her hands with them, “and, I understand why you reacted like you did. Inadvertently, I challenged everything you believe in and I meant when I said, I am sorry. It’s just that since all of this started,” she tossed the now blackened rag away and looked over at her, “all I could think about, was you. I forgot all the rest. And the promise you made me, I should have remembered beforehand to-”

“I would have made it the same.” Lexa stopped her quickly. Clarke was looking at her in quiet surprise so she added, “sha Clarke, even if you had remembered to tell me I would have promised it the same. This changes nothing.”

Clarke’s eyes softened finally, “thank you.” She said.

“You’re welcome.” She watched as Clarke pulled her lips between her teeth and Lexa wanted to get up and go kiss her but she still felt Clarke wasn’t quite ready to be close. So Lexa pushed to her feet instead and walked to stand on the rug in front of the fireplace. A low fire was burning inside it. Her knife was on the mantle.

“This won’t be the only fight we have, Lexa.” Clarke spoke up from behind her.

“We fight, Clarke, with each other, on the same side or in the past on opposite. We always have. In the end we are stronger and always will be. This is just a new type of battle for us, that is all.” Lexa answered. She slid her fingertips over the handle of her knife. She pushed it off the mantle and onto the floor. As it hit the stones she knelt into the fur near it, “is the poison off of this?”

“Yes,” Clarke said from behind her, quietly, “with you up and about I-”

“I know you don’t believe in my spirit, Clarke.” Lexa cut her off; it was something that was difficult for her to face which was why she had said nothing until now. But the words were finally out. She tried not to notice how they had brought uncomfortable silence into the air. She could feel Clarke’s eyes watching her. But she stared ahead only at the fire and said the rest as well, “I’ve known since the day in the cage. The look on your face when I first mentioned it said enough.” The long pause stayed in place in the air but Lexa only allowed it a few more uncomfortable seconds before turning her head just enough to catch sight of her out of the corner of her eye, “Klark?”

Clarke sighed softly. Lexa heard her get to her feet and come to stand behind her, “its not that I don’t believe in your spirit, Lexa,” she said, “its just that I don’t know what to believe. So many people believe in so many different things. Some believe in reincarnation after death, which is you. Some believe in God and Heaven, others still believe there is nothing after death at all, and those three are just a few in so many different beliefs. I guess I’m somewhere in the middle of …something bigger is out there after death but I don’t really know what and to be honest I am a little jealous that you have something you so firmly believe in. But if it’s important to you, it’s important to--”

“Don’t be jealous, Klark.” Lexa whispered, she glanced up at her, “I can share it with you.”

Clarke’s mouth parted just a little, as though she was taking a breath, as though the suggestion had sent whatever train of thought she’d been on crashing into a wall. At last she nodded and whispered back, “I would be honored if you did.” She sank to her knees into the furs and then sat, “I mean, I got the basic idea, we’re born, die, we’re born again. But how does it feel?” Clarke asked, she tucked a braid behind Lexa’s ear, “how does it work for you? It’s different, yes?”

“Klark...” Lexa could not help but breathe. Clarke was serious that this was important to her, and Lexa knew that anything she might say might not make her believe. Clarke had to believe for herself. Lexa brought her fingertips up smoothing away the lines of earnest forming on Clarke’s face, “so you know it means children are born again and again, small ones in their parents arms, they learn and grow, become parents themselves, learning constantly, experiencing everything as life writes it into their soul so that when the time comes for them to move on to their next life, even if they don’t remember it, all that knowledge will still be there. It is the art you do, it is the way you lead, it is the way you fight and the way you let your emotions burn, it is so many things that come easy for you, and it is even the things that come hard because your spirit has struggled with those things before. It is that feeling you get that you should turn right when you have already turned left. You would probably always be born a small baby girl because your spirit is female, Klark, and you have the choice to be so. Sometimes, your hair will change,” she ran the backs of her fingers of both hands down through Clarke’s hair, “or your skin, or what Clan you are born to. But the people you knew, you don’t ever forget them in spirit even if your body does. So when you meet someone for the first time,” Lexa kissed Clarke’s lips softly, “it might not really be the first time.” She pulled back just a couple of inches and searched Clarke’s eyes.

“But we can’t remember it?” Clarke quietly asked.

“Not all of it,” Lexa admitted, “honestly, hardly any of it. The weight of all your lives at once would incapacitate a human mind. But we are given pieces of them, Klark, all of us are, when we need them.” Right now, in this moment, she stubbornly kept herself from looking at the walls.

“You said once if someone kills themselves, their spirit couldn’t come back?”

“That is right,” Lexa answered, “life is a gift. Why should you be given another if you just threw one away?”

“And you?” Clarke asked, “How does it work for you?”

In reply, Lexa watched her for a couple of seconds before finally turning to where her knife lay on the floor. She motioned to it, “pick this up."

“Lexa?” Clarke asked cautiously, she looked at it and then at her.

“Please?” Lexa asked, "pick it up."

Clarke looked hesitant, but she still picked the knife up. Watching her blue eyes Lexa turned over her palm, “cut it.”

“Lexa, no.” Her name was a protest from Clarke’s lips. She looked in shock and suddenly sick and Lexa knew instantly that she was thinking of the jus tri so she offered quickly, “this is not like at the tree. If I could make this cut myself, I would. Now please,” she offered her palm out again.

Clarke’s jaw tightened, she almost glared into Lexa’s eyes. Looking down she made the cut fast across Lexa’s palm. It stung for only a second. Clarke dropped the knife to the floor with what sounded only like a repulsed clatter. Lexa opened her palm wider then and knew the very second Clarke saw the black blood starting to pool around the seams of the cut. She saw the intake of breath and she saw Clarke sit back and look up at her, she watched her searching for something to say. At last, staring into her eyes, Clarke whispered, “it wasn’t dark like that at the tree. I washed you for a week. You were red..”

“I wasn’t.” Lexa tried again, “by the time you arrived it had been badly diluted. I--” she what? Had been drained worse than Clarke could have thought? Had been closer to death than Clarke thought? Was surprised herself that she had survived it? How could she tell these things to Clarke when she knew that even thinking of the tree made Clarke sick to her stomach and hurt her badly? Lexa closed her eyes and tucked her lip between her teeth and moved her head side to side in slow protest to herself because she knew she was about to tell her anyway, because she had to. She wouldn’t keep secrets from Clarke.

“Leksa?” Clarke promoted, setting a hand to her shoulder. It made Lexa look up. Concern burned bright in those blue eyes. Clarke said, “I can handle it.”

“By the time you arrived what was left of my blood was merely fluid,” she began, trying to answer the prompt as seamlessly as she could, “I am still human Klark so the red tinge was still there as it was all I could produce by then. You are a healer. You know there wasn’t time enough between cuttings for whole blood to form much less to gain any substance.” She sighed, she let her shoulders drop a little because in front of Clarke, she could, “I could have bled out easy in a day or two, if they had just let me. But you know they didn’t.” Clarke said nothing after that. She waited a few more seconds but still nothing. But when she looked up the blue in Clarke’s eyes was positively set at a burn.

“So, what was left? Water? Random hapless cells carrying just enough oxygen for you?” Clarke demanded, “Leksa! I should have been there faster and-” She heaved air into her lungs as though she were in shock, and then wet her lips as though they had gone dry with her pink tongue which caused Lexa to move in and kiss her mouth softly, “its okay,” she told Clarke, “its okay, because my blood is also what saved me. It stays strong longer, dilutes much slower, and kept me alive just long enough for you to get there.” She kissed her mouth softly again, and then sat back just an inch.

Clarke exhaled against her, and tightened an arm around her back, and tucked their foreheads together, “and if it was me, at that tree?”

Lexa shuddered at the very thought, “You wouldn’t have lasted a day. The jus tri is meant to punish the commander. Our blood takes a long time to die.”

“We should destroy the tree.” Clarke muttered.

Lexa snorted softly in amusement, “I have wished so more than once I am sure.” She kissed Clarke’s forehead, sat back and opened her cut palm up again in front of her, “to be Heda one of the first tests is that you must have this blood," Lexa closed her hand, "it is that of the First Commander's."

Clarke exhaled, it was more of a deep sigh really, “that takes the numbers of possible candidates down by the thousands, doesn’t it?” She reached behind them to the bag left near the couch and took out a roll of cloth.  

“Sha.” Lexa said. She rolled her eyes just a tiny bit but held her cut hand open anyway and gently Clarke started to wrap it. She worried for every little cut or scrape and in a way Lexa couldn’t help but adore her for it.  She marveled at how -simply accepting- Clarke was of this, as though it was not strange or frightening as though it changed nothing, but that was how Clarke was, accepting people for who and what they were.  And maybe for Clarke it did change nothing that she had black blood.  Clarke had always seen her for what she was behind paint -and blood- long before now. She waited while Clarke finished and tucked the roll of bandage in. Clarke asked, “is there other ...tests?" 

“There are many so for now I will name just a few. There is the Wall of Words, which is difficult. Then there is the test where you identify things, which is probably the easiest part. The hardest part is having to fight to the death any others of eligible enough skill whom might have passed all the tests equally well as you, because over the years they have become your friends and family. Finally you are deemed the successor and you are Heda.”

“Until you die.”

“Until you die.” Lexa agreed, “there is a school in Polis. Children with this blood are usually taken there. They are trained hard to prepare them for the possibility they might be the next Heda. And when the Commander dies -unless all the children at this school are too young or too inexperienced- the next Commander is usually found there. If not, then at death the spirit releases into the most accomplished Latent out in one of the Clans. Someone we didn’t know about and had not yet found. They usually start making their way to Polis or are sent by their clans. It is not often this happens but it has happened twice. Chaelbrah and Elk were both called this way.  This is one reason I circled the army at Polis.  I knew I was going to die.  I knew the kids were promising but not quite ready.  I hoped the next Heda was there."

“And you went to this school?” Clarke asked quietly, having heard all that.

“Sha, Indra took me there when I was very young.”

Clarke paused a minute then asked, “did you have to kill your friends?”

Lexa expected that question. But still her nod was more fractional than she had hoped, “just one. His name was Oxon. We had decided if one of us had to die, then we would have it no other way than by the other’s hand, with honor, doing what we were born for.” He hadn’t been her first kill, but he was still one of her most painful ones. She could still remember running him through and even as he was falling she remembered dropping to her knees and holding his hand tightly as he bled out in her arms. Even now, it made Lexa tightly swallow. _Hail Heda,_ he had whispered proudly to her with his dying breath, both at the same time his last words and the first time anyone had hailed her.

"I am sorry."

"He was worthy." Lexa praised, "he will be a fine warrior someday, somewhere. The rest is the same," she went on, "I learn and grow, experience and take it all along with me when it's time.  My spirit remembering people it should."

“That’s amazing.” Clarke smiled at her.

Lexa rolled her eyes a little and flopped back into the furs, “sometimes not so much. One time I came back as a man. Though my spirit evidently prefers to be female it can happen to me if a male is what is best.” She groaned just a bit. It was mostly an exaggeration. She mostly just wanted to amuse Clarke now before she had to move on to matters at hand.

Clarke tried not to laugh but couldn’t hide the flash of her grin, “oh. I’m sorry, Lexa.”

“Its okay,” Lexa said, rolling onto her side and pulling Clarke down next to her and pulling her back into her chest, “I hear he was harsh, but just, and that he liked women.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh then, “That’s so you.”

Lexa smirked and added as an afterthought, “they also say he went insane.”

“Mmm.” Clarke sounded non-committal and Lexa felt the laugh in her chest where she had her arm wrapped around her. Then Clarke asked, “So you don’t remember being him?”

“Not so much. The weight of all those lives would incapacitate me the same as you. I don’t remember as much as people think I do, and then its usually only when I am close to death.” She reiterated, “usually.” Because there were a few things she thought were from other commander’s lives. "But I am me, just like you are you."

“How many commanders have there been?”

“I am the eleventh.”

Clarke blinked. Lexa saw her do the math, “that gives each about …eight years?”

“Some have had ten. Some have had two.” Lexa buried her face in Clarke’s hair, “I am at five.” She pressed a soft kiss to the back of Clarke’s neck when she felt her tense up, Because Clarke knew what Lexa knew, she was already over halfway to the median. “Klark?” she asked, “look at me?” Clarke turned over onto her back and looked over at her. Lexa slid her fingertips down her face, “I told you. I will be hard to kill.”

Clarke smiled up at her then, “sha.”

“Okay,” Lexa said, then, regretfully, she pushed herself up to sit, away from Clarke’s warmth. Looking down on her though Lexa asked, “but my people are out there, on the verge of war without a leader,” she said. She searched Clarke’s eyes, “because they think I am dead, I cannot go to them without further disrupting whatever balance, if any, there is without knowing more, or it could make it worse on my people.” She inhaled quietly and said what struck fear into her because she had no choice, “I am going to need you to do something for me.”

That was when Clarke realized how serious Lexa was. Lexa saw the shine change from a relaxed quiet to the warrior glow Clarke’s eyes often had. Clarke pushed to sit up and looked at her, “Lexa,” she said, “just ask, and its done.”

“Lincoln is near, somewhere.” Lexa answered, “and to know what is going on out there and how to deal with it before I make any decisions, I need Indra. I can’t wait for her for two more days. I need you to go and find Lincoln and ask him to bring Indra to me, Clarke, just a soon as it’s light.”


	35. ai seintaim (me too)

Dawn was breaking. Clarke could see it through the window in the old kitchen. On the counter she had spread out the weapons they had, her knife, Lexa’s knife, a pair of swords, her bow and a handful of arrows, and her gun. Everything but her gun and the knives Lincoln must have brought in when they had arrived here. She had paid no attention to any of it except the pair of knives until now. Clarke’s hand hovered over the gun but even that little action sent a rush of cold over her skin. She hadn’t fired it. She hadn’t fired it since….

_Don’t make me do this._

_Dad. I’ll take care of our people._

_None of us has a choice here, Clarke._

_I didn’t want this._

_Neither did I._

Clarke yanked her hand back fast. But it didn’t stop the cold chills. It didn’t stop the sweat that broke suddenly on her brow. It didn’t stop the fact that her breath sped up. It didn’t stop her from scrambling backward… Lexa’s arms caught her. Caught her around the middle and pulled her close and for a second, for a flash, for the beat of a single breath she felt anger consume her and almost pulled away from her. Lexa knew it too because Clarke knew she felt her whole body tense up. But the instant flash was gone. Gone and gone and she turned and was grabbing tightly at both of Lexa’s arms. The arms tightened around her back. Lexa’s chin settled on her head and Clarke pressed her face into her warm throat. She knew Lexa could feel the racing of her heart. But she kept her eyes closed tight in case looking up at her made her hate everything she had done again. Clarke felt Lexa swallow. She felt Lexa’s jaw tighten. She felt the soft tuck of Lexa’s cheek against her hair. Lexa’s voice was barely a crack from her throat, “I-”

“Shh.” Clarke cut her off fast, under her own breath, “just don’t.” She couldn’t bear for the anger to come back.

But Lexa’s voice sounded broken anyway, “I never wanted to…”

“Shhh..” Clarke asked again. Her breathing was coming a little steadier now. She inhaled deeply and looked up into broken green eyes and realized something that took away her breath; Lexa was afraid. Clarke stared back at her for a second then finally reached down and pulled one of their hands between them and held it tight, “it’s not changing this. It’s not changing my mind. God I hate what happened on that Mountain, Lexa, and it burns me alive to think of what you did. But we are not standing there anymore.” Clarke said to her firmly, “we’re standing here, right here. Understand?” She looked at Lexa, “do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” _I love you. I hate what you did but I love you._ Maybe one day, she could say the words, right now she just put her fingers around the back of Lexa’s head and held her close.

She barely heard Lexa’s whisper, “but you are still there, on that mountain.” It broke Clarke’s heart. But she said nothing; biting hard on her lip she just closed her eyes and tucked herself harder into Lexa’s neck. She could feel Lexa swallow. Lexa’s arms tightened around her back and she kissed the side of her forehead and added, “sha, I understand what you are trying to say.” Another pause and the side of Lexa’s face was against her ear, “ai seintaim, Klark.”

_ai seintaim._

Clarke almost didn’t hear that soft whisper. Just three small words, spoken like magic, that both made her calm instantly and at the same time made her heart stumble in her chest. She let the whisper stay in the air a minute so it could burn into both of them before she finally loosened her hands just a little without extracting them from Lexa’s hair and slowly took a single step back. It made Lexa lift her head and Clarke moved back in and kissed her when she did; a longer kiss that she needed. The feel of Lexa’s soft lips under hers, kissing her own back just as urgently, made Clarke walk forward without breaking the kiss, forcing Lexa to walk backward until she was up against the nearest wall. She heard Lexa’s breath crack. Clarke’s caught too. She brushed her lips over Lexa’s once more and ended the kiss more gently than she had started it. Lexa’s face twitched as though in pain and Clarke tried to step back but arms tightened on her holding her there and she looked up just to have Lexa’s kiss swollen lips settle on hers chastely before pulling away again. But Lexa had not let her go, “we finish this later.” She whispered.

Clarke agreed, “sha.” She watched Lexa swallow tightly and then release her. Clarke stepped back and Lexa pushed away from the wall. The air was still a little bit weighted. Clarke cleared her throat and tried to clear the air as well, “so why is my overly stealthy girlfriend sneaking up on me anyway?”

Lexa did crack a smile, just a small one, which was more of a slight shake of her head and a fractional roll of her eyes more than anything else. But she stepped close to Clarke again enough to get into her space and opened her hand that wasn’t wrapped in bandage. Several pieces of charcoal lay in it. She explained, “The last information I had said everyone was looking for Wanheda.” She touched Clarke’s hair with her other hand, “we need to color this.” She looked back at the charcoal.

“Right.” Clarke took a piece of it from Lexa’s hands, crushed it between her palms and started raking the black through her hair. She crumbled more of the charcoal and did it again. Lexa stopped her quickly, “you’re just making a mess.” She said. Clarke stopped. She could only imagine. She couldn’t see what she was doing. Lexa though, put what was left of the charcoal in Clarke’s hand. Clarke understood and crumbled it up. She held her hand open and Lexa rubbed her hand over it, blackening her own fingers before she started slipping them down through Clarke’s hair, all the way from her scalp to the ends. Getting more black on her hands she started the next section. And Clarke found she was holding her breath as Lexa’s fingers carefully slid through and colored her hair. It took a few minutes and a few more pieces of charcoal but at last Lexa stepped away from her, “turn?” she asked.

Clarke did, slowly, “good?” she asked.

“Mmm.” Lexa answered, satisfied but clearly not pleased, “up close it looks as though someone rubbed ash in your hair.”

“Lexa.” Clarke protested.

“But if you cover your head and don’t get close to people, it will work well enough.” Lexa decided, “Gray hair isn’t unusual on the elders.”

Clarke snorted, “So they will think I’m old?”

“There is nothing wrong with being old, Clarke,” Lexa spoke up, “it is a privilege many of us don’t get.”

Clarke bit her lip, “right.” She said, “sorry.” Then she turned around and went back to where the weapons were. She reached for her knife--

“You should take mine.” Lexa said protectively.

“No,” Clarke answered, “it ties me to you.” She turned back to the weapons, intentionally and quickly ignored her gun and gathered her bow and the arrows and slipped them into place on her back. It had been a while now since she had worn them and the addition almost felt foreign as she turned around again.

Lexa nodded at the bow, “you can use that?”

“Somewhat.” Clarke smirked, “I had to feed myself somehow.” Lexa nodded at her. Clarke glanced into the other room. This was it. She turned and left the kitchen and Lexa followed her to the front door where Clarke stopped and turned to her.

“Lincoln should not be far.” Lexa said.

“I shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours.” Clarke answered. Right there though, she felt something start to ache inside her and she couldn’t help but wonder if Lexa was feeling it as well. This was the first time they would be apart since--

Lexa trapped her mouth in a kiss, moving into her space she slid her arms around and up Clarke’s back as she did. It made Clarke’s legs weak instantly and she brought both of her hands up to the sides of Lexa’s face. Lexa pulled back slowly but still leaving her breathless. Standing back from her just a step Lexa admitted, “I hate having to send you.”

“I know,” Clarke answered, trying to breathe.

“If they recognize you, Clarke…”

“I know.” Clarke pulled herself together a bit and smiled for Lexa, “Its just a few hours, Lexa. You’re not sending me to war. I got this.”

“Okay.” Lexa said at last. She looked at the door and looked at Clarke again.

Clarke looked at her one last time, lifted her chin a little to assure her she was fine, then turned to the door and pulled it open and stepped outside into early morning sunlight.  Clarke pulled the hood over her head.

Without looking back she pulled the door closed behind her. Without looking back she started away quickly down the walk and onto the deserted, broken up asphalt street. She kept going without looking behind her at the house. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could keep walking. She wasn’t sure if she’d see Lexa out on the balcony or maybe at a window and be able to stand it because she felt her eyes on her, watching her each step of the way to the corner of the street she had to turn down.

She took the corner and the feeling was gone replaced by the feeling of being alone.

She sucked it in and kept going anyway because Lexa was counting on her. She was counting on her to save her people. The irony was not lost on Clarke but it didn’t have weight right now either. Lexa needed Indra, and Clarke would get Lincoln to bring Indra back.


	36. End of the Road

He ditched the bike when it was out of gas.

He traded a steak knife for some grounder clothes that looked like they had several previous owners.

He also ditched the swords. There was some stupid sign that didn’t allow weapons to be brought in to Polis. But he could hide the gun.

After that, he had even managed to get into the massive grounder city.

If he were Wanheda, where would he be? And why was everyone on the streets staring up?

John looked up too, and smirked, because he had his answer.

_A princess in a tower?_

How perfect.

\--==--

Everything was quiet inside the top room of the tower. The curtains were open. Outside the sky was blue. Inside, sunlight spilled golden over generals and ambassadors and their delegations alike. It spilled over Indra and over the three girls standing in the middle of the room. There was nothing ceremonial about this part. This part merely tested the viability of their claims before the rest began. But this part was official and Indra felt that Titus should be here anyway. But he went away on sabbatical within hours of Lexa’s fall. Or so he had claimed. But even without him saying so Indra had a feeling he was up to something elsewhere. Just as she was. Just like she knew nothing good was to come out of this today. And with Titus gone, since she was top General, this issue came to her.

“We really should wait, Indra.” Kanor was the first to break the silence, “for him to arrive.”

 _Him,_ Indra thought, _the boy in the Dead Zone. Okan._ She alone knew his name. And she alone knew his name because of Echo, whom, very shortly now would be found as a traitor just to bring the name to her and tell her that Okan was not Wasgroun but Azgeda, and he was a threat. Echo who stood just a few feet in front of her surely knowing she was awaiting sentencing and not a continuation on into the tests. No. Because this girl had come to her with such a warning she would not carry this on longer when Okan could be dangerous if he ever stepped into the tower. She would not make this girl wait any longer for her fate either. For a second Indra was proud of Echo and she wished more of Azgeda could be a fraction of what she was. Drawing up her shoulders Indra spoke at last, “no. We do this now. If he arrives he will be tested against any of these three that still stand.”

“That is not the way.” Kanor objected quietly.

Indra glared at him, “we are out of time.” She clipped, she motioned outside the tower implying the people below, “they are restless and we are nearly at each others throats. We need a leader.”

Luna spoke up unexpectedly, “I second Indra.”

Aneth also stepped forward and so did Aluk, Merric and Vania and, quite to Indra’s surprise, so did Azgeda General Flon whom had, until now, been utterly absent in all other dealings since Lexa’s fall. This silent show of support, specifically from Azgeda, whom everyone knew everyone had tenacious relations with at best, was enough to make Kanor step quietly back into his place against the wall. But for official purposes Indra pointed out anyway, “seven to four, absence of Skaldakru taken in consideration. We carry on.”

“We carry on.” Kanor muttered.

Indra let her eyes glide a warning over him just once more, and also over Azgeda, because within seconds she was sure she would be receiving no further backing from him. Then she turned abruptly to the girls in the center of the room, “Azgeda,” she said, looking at Echo. She had impersonated a Nightblood. Which was treason. Which meant death. But yet she stood strong where she was in the wintry clothing of her clan, faced painted properly as they often did, with blood. Indra moved on to Allegany, “Wodakru.” She said, and Allegany’s gray eyes glittered with determined fire behind the very dark green and blue paint. She shifted her head up just a fraction and dark brown braids spilled down the back of her dark gown of her clan. This one, too, would have been very strong, Indra thought. Loosing this warrior would be such a waste. Indra moved at last to Leona, dressed in the brown leather and rough cloth native to the Trikru. Leona’s hair had also been braided up in the sides in several small braids, wrapped in gold twine on the ends. Her paint covered her eyes in a deceptively soft pattern. But just from training with her, these past several days, Indra knew this girl was anything but soft. Indra acknowledged her own Clan simply as she had the others, “Trikru.” She stepped back from the three of them, “this is a great moment, in our history,” she spoke to everyone there in that room, even if there was no Heda to be found today, the truth of what these three standing in front of her meant was something to behold, was strength and significance at its very strongest and best, and she would point it out, “Until today, Heda has only come to us from Trikru. But through our Coalition, this has changed. Through our Coalition, it has come to be that three clans stand here now in judgment, where before only one of us has stood; to offer us their strength, to offer us their leadership, their guidance and their service, to lead our people as one. So we should remember this moment, all of us, no matter the outcome. Because of our coalition here we see unity,” she looked at each of the girls again, “here we see strength.” This was what needed to be carried away from today when nothing else was. Because the coalition was failing. Because it was nearly dust. Because be a reminder they were stronger with it,than they would be without.

\--==--

He had barely stepped one foot inside the tower when a heavily muscled arm shot across the entrance and a large grounder with a spear got into his face and snarled, “You know the law. No one comes in here today.”

John grunted, shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped back, “I was only looking,” he said slowly, casually glancing around before looking back at this guard in his way, “for Wanheda.”

The guard just snorted at him as though he was stupid but he didn’t move one inch out of John’s way and stayed, using his arm to block the door, “she left the city.” The guard’s eyes narrowed on him, “you know this.” This guard slid his eyes behind him stealing a slow glance to the other guards in this room, almost as though for backup. And John noticed them too, the pause in them, the slow tension building in shoulders, the tighter grip on spears they held. But no one moved. Not yet anyway. So for the moment he didn’t either. But he did tighten his grip around the gun in his pocket, “Wanheda.” He said again, “Clarke Griffin? Klark kom Skaikru?” he asked those names too in case anyone here was that impudent, “take me to her.” He glanced up to imply this tower he was in. He knew she was up there.

\--==--

The hiss of steel Indra’s knife made as she pulled it from its sheath seemed unbearably loud in the otherwise silent room. Knowing it was best to get it over with she approached Echo first and asked, “hold out your hand.”

Brown eyes searched hers but only for a second and no longer. Echo lifted her hand and opened it palm up between them. Gripping it firmly Indra made the cut. What she expected happened. She saw the red blood start to pool on the girl’s pale skin before it started dripping in large droplets to spatter on the floor.

The rumble that shook the room at sight of this was palpable as the silence that had come before it had been.

Luna moved first, “this is treason.”

“This is a disgrace to our Clan,” Flon injected, stepping forward as though to reach Echo with the Azgeda delegation. Echo looked over at them sharply and Indra stepped the space between her and Flon, “step back.” She said.

Flon lifted his chin fractionally, “this, is not your place, Trikru.”

“It is for now.” Indra answered, ignoring the way her Clan was used as slander, “the girl can wait until the days are done and Heda has been named. Or,” she said, looking over both Flon and the rest of the Azgeda delegation to include them, “you can join her in her fate.”

Flon tightened his hands and glared at her. Indra did the same and glared back at him. It was the not so proverbial stare down that illustrated the relations of their two people. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aneth step toward her, and Luna, and to her quiet surprise so did Penn. Finally Flon grunted as though it didn’t matter anyway, and pulled himself, and as an extension of himself, his delegation back into their places near the wall.

Indra shifted finally just enough to get the attention of two guards, “get her back to her room,” she indicated Echo, “and keep guards at her door.” She turned then impassively, intentionally not watching as the Azgeda girl was taken away. Indra used this time to clean the blade. After the door closed though she turned to Allegany and asked, “hold out your hand.”

Allegany moved only enough to bring her hand up and open her palm. This time, when Indra made the cut the expected black blood pooled out and dripped onto the floor. There was of course, the quiet approval that moved through the room. Especially after Echo. Allegany herself was staring at her own blood. Then she lifted her eyes to Indra’s. Indra gave her a quiet nod back and let go of her hand. She also cast a glance toward Luna whom stood quietly, but proudly, with her own delegation.

Indra ran cloth over the blade again. Then lastly turned to Leona who was motionless and silent in the middle of the room as she had been since she had first arrived. Leona didn’t wait though. She knew the question already. Without hesitation she opened her hand in front of her.

\--==--

“Get him out of here.” The grounder guard blocking the door called over his shoulder to the other guards in the room.

They came forward. John couldn’t loose this chance. He grabbed the guard blocking the door with by the through and shoved the gun up under his chin with his other hand and shoved his way forward into the room. It happened so fast that he didn’t even have time to blink. Either did his new hostage, whom just now seemed barely figuring what happened out. John stepped harder into his hostage’s space, “Wanheda?” he spat at him, “in ai stegeda!” Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others in the room shift slightly again, awaking from their minute lapse of shock. So he glared at them and to get them to stand down he pulled back the hammer of the gun he was holding, “teik ai der.” No one moved. He’d about had enough. He could just blow this guy's head off and maybe they would listen. But maybe not. His knuckles turned white as he resisted the urge to just put a bullet in the guy’s head and move onto the next one, much like Okan had been doing in the Dead Zone. John could understand his rage. Everyone was just in the way of where he really wanted to go. He shouted, “Nau!”

“em ste yu!” one of the guards, a woman, in the room spoke up suddenly pushing forward to him as she did. She was a warrior, skilled for sure by the marks on her, also dressed similar as this guard was dressed. Her skin was paler though and set off by tattered brown cloth of her shirt that was covered in belts and buckles and everything else he’d come to know as grounder’s sense of so-called style. Two dark lines were tattooed across each of her temples; a third ran down the middle of her forehead. She came closer and was staring at him as though he was some sort of exhibit. She lowered her spear and made a calming gesture with her hands, “em ste yu.” She said again.

“Okay….” John said first, because he had no clue who this girl was or how she could possibly know anything about him. But she was at least talking, saying something other than no. All the same, he wasn’t about to release his hold on his prisoner. And still, sliding his gaze suspiciously between said prisoner and this guard girl he asked he slowly, “chit?”

“ai laik Wasgroun,” she took another cautious step forward until she was just a foot or so from him, “yu laik won emo laik gon.”

“Leyric?” the guard at the muzzle of John’s gun asked carefully, in doing so he also implied the gun in John’s hand with a very slight nod, “are you for sure? This weapon he has is Skaikru.”

“Our commander fears nothing.” Leyric replied, suddenly looking at John as though he was an amazing thing, the incarnation of a god, or something. She added with a quiet smile, “especially nothing that is Skaikru.”

Her obvious, oblivious, adulation was unsettling. But John still hadn’t lowered his gun, not quite, not yet, “listen,” he said to her since she was both, apparently okay with using gonasleng and with his having a gun at her companion’s throat, “I don’t really care about anyone down here. I only want Wanheda.”

“Then this is not necessary,” his hostage smoke up, shifting his eyes down to imply the gun at his throat and making John look at him again. His hostage added, “we will take you where you need to go.”

“Sha,” Leyric agreed, “you can put the gun down.”

John looked carefully between both of them. He’d learned not to trust though, not anyone. Not ever. So even though he lowered his gun he didn’t put it away. He kept it ready, just in case. Then slowly he said, “Okay,” he looked between them both, “so let’s go.”

\--===--

More large black droplets dripped onto the floor from the cut in Leona's palm. But it still felt like everyone had almost not expected it. Indra nodded once at Leona, realized her hand, and stepped back from her. She turned and cleaned the knife again before putting it away, “then this is two.” She said.

In turn, Luna nodded and inhaled, “and that is that.”

Flon and his group just stiffened their backs. Indra ignored them, for now. She was about to dismiss everyone for the day. She was about to send attendants up to darken the flame on top of the tower. But the doors clicked open. Drawing her attention, likewise drawing the attention of everyone in room. She was unsure what she was looking at for a second as three people appeared. But it was just a second before she recognized this was two guards from the downstairs floor with a boy between them. He was scruffy, and dirty and she knew him instantly, “Skaikru.” She said. Her jaw stiffened. This one had stood by in her village. This one had just watched on as eighteen were slaughtered. She felt her lips curl down into a disgusted, tight snarl.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” Leyric, was that her name, spoke up. Indra barely recognized her through her reddening haze. She watched though --only immense years of training holding her in place and keeping her from going over and simply ripping out this boy’s throat, that, and the fact that his people had in fact pardoned him and in killing him she could start a war-- as Leyric looked at him, “he is here. The candidate from Wasgroun.”

“This is not Wasgroun.” Both Indra and to her muted surprise, Kanor, said at the same time. She saw Kanor look at her in surprise but she just stared at the boy in the door, “he is Skaikru.” she said lowly, “he is Murphy kom Skaikru.” She moved just a little closer from him until they were just a few inches apart, “and he stood there and watched my village _die_.”

That again. “I…” John said slowly, suddenly he wondered what the hell he was doing? What was he doing in the grounder capital? In a damned skyscraper, with a gun? Oh right, looking for Wanheda. Clarke, yeah, he was sure now, she was going to get him killed someday, somehow. Slowly then John moved his hands to his sides.

“He’s armed.” Luna spoke up.

Indra’s eyes moved to the gun in John’s hand. So did everyone else’s. Indra had the only weapon. She took the knife out, “let it go,” she said, “very slowly.”

John dropped the gun, “look,” he said dully as it clattered to the floor, “I only want Wanheda.”

“He is Skaikru!” Kanor repeated, coming in shock to stand just a little closer.

John turned to glare at him, “what, you were expecting Okan? Yeah, he tried to attack me with these swords. I had them, but I left them out there in a bush somewhere,” he motioned back the way he had come. “Anyway, so, he attacked me and I killed him out in the Dead Zone and I came here to kill Wanheda for taking my city. So,” he rubbed at his eye, “can we just get on with it?”

Indra said nothing, hearing this, but something cold and un-living felt like it was working its way into her stomach, “how do you know this?” she asked.

John grunted, “I just said I killed the guy. He was a shit too, bloodbath all over the Dead Zone. You should thank me for killing him with all your blood must have blood …trash.. talk.” John felt the last bits of the sentence falter off uncomfortably as he remembered where he was. He rubbed at his mouth nervously. _Shit._

“You knew his name?” Kanor asked, and to Indra it sounded like Kanor had known the boy’s name all along and had been withholding it. But the truth be told, so had she. Which made this Skaikru boy worried her more that he knew the facts of these things. He worried her far far worse reasons than a dead Wasgroun aspirant that was really Azgeda. But what was it? She didn’t know. She just knew it left a bad feeling in her throat and a burning in her brain that said this was –very much- an uncharted and very untypical peril and what was worse she didn’t know where it was stemming from. But over all, this, she knew, the actuality of this was happenstance. Impossible. So she glared coldly and tried to figure out where he had learned this information.

“We should test him.” Aneth spoke up, breaking into Indra’s thoughts. Indra turned to stare at her for a second. Many times thought this ordeal, Aneth had been both ally and opposition and she had been so without even knowing it. Keeping the edge of her disturbance out of her voice without much difficulty Indra answered, “no.”

Aneth argued instantly, “He knows too many things! Things he cannot know!”

“Get him out of here,” Indra decided, “lock him in a room.” She backed away just a step from him.

When the guards at John’s sides moved to do so he probably could not have been more relieved but at the same time he was terribly angry and threw off their hands-

“Wait!” Luna made the guards stop fast in a voice that made Indra look over in time to see Luna step forward, “Aneth might be right.”

“He is Skaikru.” Indra spelled out, turning to them and pointing at him, “he cannot carry the Commander’s spirit. He can't have the blood. His people were still in space when the first commander rose to power.” She slid her eyes over Aneth. She should have known this. She shouldn’t have to explain this, “neither can Wanheda.” She decided to stop that argument where it was. It was a flawless point. Or it should have been.

“But yet he is _here_ ,” Aneth pointed out, “And he _knows_ these things. He still got into this city, into this tower. A Skaikru, up _here_.” Her words were bitter and cold and dripping with pieces of brittle truth, “we share the same foundations as people in space, Indra. It takes only a minute and this argument will be over, and he is right here.” she motioned to John.

Indra thought she heard Kanor snort. But she didn’t care. Her own mouth felt dry with rage at this truth suddenly being questioned, “I will end this foolishness.” She said, and everyone stepped away as she approached the creature known to the Skaikru as John Murphy. He saw her rage, she made sure he did, when others barely felt it and he tried to move back but the guards that had brought him caught her eye and knew to block him from getting out the door. She grabbed his hand. She could feel him trying to escape. She gripped his hand tighter and forced open his palm and pulled her knife.

Indra spared him no mercy as she dug the blade in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigedasleng Translations (roughly):
> 
> in ai stegeda - in my city  
> Nau -Now  
> em ste yu - I know you  
> yu laik won emo laik gon - you are the one we have been waiting on


	37. Forever More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival at Polis for Octavia and crew doesn't exactly go as planned.... finally, she tells them whats up.

“Octavia,” Raven protested for probably the fourth time that morning. But this time, she rode her horse forward up beside her, “it was a--”

“Freakin’ army base, I know.” Octavia answered. The others, she noted, hung back several paces, probably tired of this argument.

“You camped us at a army base!” Raven put emphasis on it, “or what was left of one. But still. If we are going to war--”

“If it wasn’t for the Azgeda army marching about as though they owned this forest,” Octavia pointed out, “we wouldn’t have camped there.”

“Well don’t you think we could find something we can use in there?” Raven asked, “We should go back,” she said, “We should go back and look around.”

“We already talked about this, Raven,” Octavia answered, for, she didn’t know how many times this morning they had already had this conversation, “look, I know you have a point. But we don’t have time.” It took practically everything she had, short of Wick carrying her, to get Raven the Mechanic out of what she probably considered to be Heaven. It took only a few minutes to do so with the reminder of the army that wasn’t supposed to be there that had pinned them down in the first place…

“Why not?” Raven asked.

Octavia sighed, “because,” she said at last, “that army?” She looked at the ground, at the trampled frost and the broken leaves, “the one I thought went south to the Ark?”

“Yeah?” Raven asked.

“I was wrong. It turned,” Octavia said, “it went West.”

“That means they aren’t going to the Ark,” Raven replied, with a smile at her, “and this is supposed to be bad, why?”

“Because it means they are going to Polis.” Octavia answered.

“What?” Raven asked, somewhat subdued and concerned sounding now, “same place we’re goin?”

“Yeah,” Octavia answered, “that army is heading to or most likely already at Polis.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Raven asked, “I mean, with Lexa dead you said-”

Octavia nodded, “we should hope they are supposed to be there.” She said. She could also hope that they hadn’t been out in a remote part of the forest, running drills. But they would know soon. Polis was just around the proverbial corner. Well, a corner in the form of thick icy forest. She stopped her horse and waited for the others to catch up to them. Raven stopped hers with something of a annoyed but thoughtful look on her face, Miller, Monty, Harper and Wick brought their horses to a stop as well. Wick asked, “done with the third degree?”

“Not quite.” Raven muttered.

“That army we saw,” Octavia filled them in, “it headed to Polis.”

“Sooo…” Monty ventured.

“We have to be careful now. When we turn this hillside, we will be in sight of the city. Either way,” She said, “there is going to be an army around it. We can hope it’s the one that’s supposed to be there and we hope that Indra can get us in.”

“And if it’s not?” Harper asked.

“Then we run,” Octavia answered. She looked around. She could tell they were surprised by that answer, “look, I haven’t gotten that far y--”

\--a horn cut her off, or several of them, loud and distant, of a stronger and deeper tone than she had ever heard any horn make, coming from the city. If they were closer, it might have rattled the trees. It might have shaken the ground. As it was, the disquieting sound of it sent flutters of ..something.. anxiety maybe, sounding through the beat of her heart. She turned toward it and as she did, she heard the same thundering of horns in the distance from someplace south of and behind them now, as if someone else was picking up the sound where the horns of the city couldn’t reach past, to spread it on out further over the land. Octavia looked that way as well. At last the rolling noise faded out, and was gone.

Miller’s voice was a breath, “what was that?” he asked. Octavia turned to find him and the others looking nervously around.

“It sounded like a warning.” Harper said, she looked at all of them, “like Lincoln’s horn?”

“No, that was different.” Raven spoke up, she looked at Octavia, “that was something else. What?”

Octavia set her jaw, “I don’t know.” She admitted, “I’ve never heard anything like it before.” She added, “but it came from Polis.” She looked that way. They did too. Without another word Octavia turned her horse and started around the corner of that last hillside. The city sprawled out vastly into view, nestled in the middle of a panorama of blue skies and green trees, in the very center the tower that looked on fire. She also knew the second that everyone behind her saw the city. She heard the catch of their breath. She remembered her first sight of it too. To be honest, it was still breath taking, even more in the morning light. She heard their horses stop again and she stopped hers and turned in her saddle to find them staring at the sight of the city spread out below. “Hey guys,” she said after a second of watching them, “you kind of have to breathe.”

“Yeah but..” Harper started to speak. She glanced at Octavia then down at Polis again, “how?”

How what? The question could be asking so many things. How was it there? How did they not know it was there? How did the single sky-scraper survive? Watching the city Octavia felt that it was so much her home even if she hadn’t been there for long. She finally answered, “I don’t know.” It was a fitting answer to any questions the one word could mean. Cold air burned into her lungs as she sat taking in the sight. But it grew even colder. Because as she was watching it the flame burning on the tower suddenly changed color, from its golden orange to a darker purple glow. She felt her body lock up, not just her lungs or her throat or her heart, but her whole body. She knew the others saw that happen too. Monty asked the question all of them were thinking, “What’s that about?”

 _Heda._ Octavia’s brain whispered. But she didn’t say it out loud because, how the hell could she know? It gave her the same feeling the horns had though. So she started her horse forward toward the city again, “lets just go.”

It didn’t take them long to come off the hill. Clearing the tree line she knew the second they were seen because nearly the whole army that was now positioned not just off to the sides of the road but across it to block the way in as well tensed up at their approach. She glanced at the others and knew they were tense as she was. If not more so. But she had to play it cool. She had to play it cool if they had any chance in this. So, Octavia urged her horse just a little faster and started right toward that army barricading the gate. One of the warriors on a horse broke formation and started riding toward them in return.

They met in the middle. Octavia brought her horse to a dancing stop and so did the warrior. Octavia could see he was a captain now, “we need in,” she said, glancing back to include her little kru. She looked at the captain again, “I need to see Indra.”

“The city just closed to visitors.” The guard answered, she noticed, his eyes shifted over Raven, Monty and the others before focusing back on her. You bring Skaikru? The look in the captain’s eyes questioned. But he didn’t ask it out loud. He didn’t have to. Octavia asked, “why?”

“They are testing for Heda.” The guard replied, as though she should know this but also as though he wasn’t surprised she did not.

 _Testing for Heda._ Octavia felt her throat thicken up and resisted the urge to swallow because she knew that this captain was watching everything she did, every thing she said and every bit of body language was under his scrutiny now. So she prepared her words to be non committal and non confrontational both, “right.” She said, “sorry.” Then she turned her horse, glanced at the others fast to tell them and to be sure they were going to follow, then she started away from the city and back up the path at a fast, but hopefully leisurely pace. She hoped the others would stay quiet and just follow her. She hoped and prayed they would and kept hoping and praying they would until they turned a hillside at last and were hidden from sight of the city. Then she sped her horse up a little into a sharp and staggering run and started westward, off the road, into the trees. Her heart thundered like hoof-beats. So did her breath. She looked back once, trusting her Horse not to run into anything. She could tell Raven and Miller, Harper and even Monty were more than a little annoyed with her by the grimaces on their faces and the clench of their teeth as they did their best to keep up with her, to pursue her, to not be left behind.

But Octavia could not stop. Not yet. What was happening in Polis was not expected or planned or even possible at all. It added all sorts of pages and pages of trouble to things already a mess, “dammit, dammit, dammit..” she cursed and swore under her breath. Her horse knew she wasn’t really paying attention. It knew it had free reign. It dodged trees right and left, tore up and down hillsides. Octavia’s lips were hurting from behind pressed together so tightly and every thought in her mind seemed so over worked when, finally, she heard the tumble and roar of the waterfall.

She pulled her horse to a skidding stop right in front of it, gasping for breath as though she had been the one to make the run and not the animal stumbling to a stop under her. She looked behind her, eyes wincing, at the sight of her little kru thundering up through trees and over the hill. In the middle of the turmoil it crossed her mind that just days ago, they couldn’t ride. Even now they pulled to a stop next to her, horses turning and skittering to not plow into each other as they stopped-

”What the hell was that, O!” Raven yelled at her.

“Really?!” Monty backed Raven this time, “don’t you think we deserve a little warning?”

“Polis is closed.” Octavia answered nearly as irritably as they sounded. She let herself swallow now and looked back the way they had come, “we can’t get to Indra.”

“What does that mean?” Harper asked carefully.

“It means,” Octavia answered, “that we are on our own. Shit..” she added, rubbing her forehead. Then her mouth. She needed Indra’s backing for a place, some stable ground, and maybe a few gona on their side of this for when shit hit the fan. That was out now. She looked around the forest; probably nervous for the first time outside the time they had seen that Ice Nation army… as she did though an idea was taking slow shape in her head…

“What about Clarke?" Miller asked.

She looked at Miller. How could he tell what she was thinking? She hadn’t planned, exactly, on letting them in on this part as much just yet, which was another reason why she needed Indra, Octavia wasn’t sure how much control her friends were going to have when they found out who Clarke was hanging with. So at last she asked, “do you guys remember when I asked you to trust me?” She looked north through the forest and then back at them.

They looked nervous, maybe more so than they had that night when she first asked. Wick nodded first, “…yeah?”

“Okay,” she said, “you’re really really going to have to do that right now.” Seeing them look at each other again made Octavia wince and add, “I mean it, guys, what I am showing you next, can destroy well…all the clans.. basically everything, if we don’t do it right. Okay?”

“Okay.” Raven said first, without hesitation.

Octavia winced, “ 'specially you, Rae.” She said, she knew that Octavia didn’t care for Lexa.

“You got it.”

“Us too.” Harper answered, looking at the rest of them.

“Okay,” Octavia took a deep breath and started her horse northward at a walk through the trees, “this way.” She looked back to be sure they were following, they were, slowly at first, but they were. She would take them to the cemetery. Hopefully, she looked to the trees, Lincoln was somewhere about. It would help if he was with her before they arrived there.

“What does this have to do with Clarke?” Harper spoke up.

Octavia looked back, “you’re about to find out.” She said, then she looked back again, “and one more thing,” she added, “you guys …you can’t kill anyone either.”

“O,” Raven spoke up, “you’re being weird. I mean, yeah, you’re weird in the first place but this is weird to a whole ‘nother level…” they entered the cemetery. Octavia heard them all fall silent the moment the horses started stepping silently through fallen headstones. Lincoln had not joined them. But it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t. He just hadn’t yet. Octavia stopped her horse at the base of the hillside she knew the mausoleum was hidden under. They stopped without a word, but she could tell they were more than a little creeped out by their faces. She got down from her horse anyway, “Clarke is in here.” She glanced at the overgrowth hiding the door.

“Wait,” Raven said, “you knew where she was this whole time?”

Octavia nodded, “I hid her.” She said, “me and Lincoln. But, uh, not quite this whole time she’s been gone, no.” She saw the others digest what that meant. She waited until they started to drop down from their horses, she waited to be sure Wick was helping Raven down from hers, then she turned to the shrubbery, pushed through it, and pushed through it more until her hand touched the metal door, “watch your eyes,” she called back to them. Holding the handle without even being able to see it Octavia turned it and pushed. The door swung open. She only saw four steps heading downward between narrow walls before the rest of them vanished into pitch dark. Octavia felt the first concern, that Clarke wasn’t up the stairs to meet them. But on second thought, she was probably waiting somewhere below with a knife ready to jump her in the dark. Octavia glanced back fast to her little kru now pressed up behind her. Raven was the first one. Raven who grunted and asked, “You’re kidding right?”

Octavia only shook her head, “come on,” she said, and then started down into the dark, “Clarke?” she called as she went, counting steps down, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, she was near the bottom just two to go, “Clarke its me!” she stepped off the bottom step and into the feel of a cold empty room, feel only because it was too black to see. But even as the others stepped off the step and crashing into her as they did so, in that dark Octavia already knew – no one was home.

She held her breath as she realized this. It was a strange feeling and as her eyes adjusted to the dark of the empty room she took another step or two forward. So did Raven right behind her. So did Monty and Miller and Harper. They were so quiet she could feel their nerves. She had nerves too, but for another reason – what if Clarke never made it here?

“No one’s home.” Harper spoke up.

“Of course not,” Raven grumbled, “it’s a crypt.”

Octavia said nothing though. She reached the table in the middle. She felt around for it and found the candle, the kit to light it with, and lit the candle up. Instantly gold light filled the little room. It bounced off all the walls. Octavia heard several breaths behind her catch and that was what made her look up. She saw what they were seeing. It made her stop breathing a second too; drawings, in fact, a whole forest. Octavia turned slowly, a whole forest drawn over all of the walls.

“Well,” Harper spoke first, “She was here.”

Octavia nodded, “yeah.” She said. Clarke had been here for sure, so Heda must have been as well. Just now she started to notice the slight mess the place had been left in; un-stacked wood, scattered bowls, a corner designated for what seemed like trash and used bandages. The plate for the fire still set on the stone floor but totally and utterly cold. Octavia turned to the others, “is the door closed?” she asked.

“No way.” Monty admitted.

“Can you go up and close it?” Octavia asked, now, and only now, she let her resolve wobble a little, but just a very little, and just because now she wasn’t quite sure where to go. She pulled out the chair and let herself sink into it. Twice in one day, her plans had failed her. She had some idea where Lincoln might have taken Clarke and Heda, if, in fact, it had been Lincoln whom had taken them from here. Her stomach felt sick suddenly. But she didn’t move. Warriors did not show weakness. They did not worry about things they could not control. She looked up to find Monty had just come back down the steps and now everyone was looking at her, somewhat expectantly. Octavia inhaled, “so, that thing I keep telling you that could destroy everything?” she broached this topic carefully because they needed to know, and down here, she could tell them what they were up against at last.

“Yeah?” Raven prompted slowly, she came over another step and asked in a soft, concerned voice Octavia knew Raven rarely used, “what’s going on O?”

“Heda isn’t dead.” Octavia said, and she felt the room change suddenly as the words were out. She felt, like maybe she shouldn’t have said them, but she knew that it had been in her plan to say them all along. She knew, in bringing her friends here to the cemetery they would have found out anyway. Hell, she knew bringing them along in the first place they would find out eventually. She rubbed the back of her neck and admitted something else, “and, I brought you guys because …because I can’t do this alone.”

“Do what?” Monty asked finally.

“And what do you mean, Heda isn’t dead?” Wick spoke up.

“Build a military force big enough to get some power under us for when shit starts going down.  Indra would have had names for us, people we could recruit.” Octavia admitted. She shrugged a little and added, “maybe form new clan where we can be without all this.. ‘yours and mine’ crap like being locked out of Polis because Skaikru isn’t recognized and well, I… I don’t have a clan to get us in with because most Trikru aren’t fond of me, either.” she said, looking at them finally, “what I mean by ‘Heda isn’t dead’ is exactly that. She isn’t. Clarke and I took her with Indra’s help, and the help of some others. Remember the dead woman we found, Kaia, well, she was one of those others. And the best part is,” Octavia said, frustrated she ground her teeth together in her typical way and looked at them with glassy eyes, “well, one of the best parts is that everyone out there and I do mean everyone except Indra, Nyko and Lincoln now think Heda is dead. And it needs to stay that way,” Octavia stressed, knowing that was all she needed to say to tell them they had to stay quiet, “for now. And the other best part is that now …now they are looking for a new Heda, are probably even suspecting they are close to finding one given what was going on at the city.  When they are dead wrong. That,” she included, “was the reason for the break-neck race I took you all on away from the place. And so now,” Octavia finished, “Clarke is with Lexa, and they were supposed to be here.” She looked around them, “but they are not and I have no way to build a military force without Indra, and, with everything I’ve seen on our way here, we’re going to be needing it sooner than I’d planned.”

They were looking at her without even trying to hide their shock. She could see it on their faces, as each little bit of what she had said one piece at a time started to sink in. Monty opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it again and shook his head as though words wouldn’t come. Wick though, finally managed to speak up first, “okay, so that is – a lot.”

Octavia looked back at him, “yeah, it sort of is.”

Another few seconds ticked by where everyone just watched each other, waiting for someone to say or do something. It was actually Raven, whom had the least reason to like any of this, that spoke up first, “but yeah,” she said at last, “we got you.” She looked up at the others, “don’t we?”

“Yeah,” Harper agreed at last, slightly clearing her throat, “we got you.”

Monty finally was able to speak, “its kind of like ..some top secret sort of thing.”

“Oh yeah.” Octavia agreed, with what was probably an inappropriate grunt of amusement considering the circumstances, "very."

Monty grinned, "this is cool." 

Octavia wasn't surprised, he'd think that.  It made her laugh just once in amusement at him.

“So what’s next, Boss?” Miller spoke up, showing his inclusion hadn’t changed either.

“Well,” she said, thinking it through a little, “I expected Lincoln to show, if he was around and saw us come in. But I think he isn’t. In fact, since they are not here,” she looked around the little room, “and they evidently were, I think he moved them. Or someone did. But I think it was him because we haven’t heard anything about Heda or Wanheda being found…”

“Wanheda?” Monty asked.

“Clarke.” Octavia provided. “Anyway, if he moved him it means it’s not safe to stay here. We need to find a place that is safe to regroup, come up with a plan C.”

“Plan C?” Wick asked, his dry amusement catching. It made Octavia smile again despite herself, “yeah,” she motioned around the room, “coming here after Polis was already Plan B.”

“Hey,” Raven spoke up then, and from the gleam in her eyes Octavia knew what she was going to say, “how about that--”

“Old army base…” Octavia finished. Obviously, Raven hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Which was actually a good thing right now. Because the place would be perfect. She pushed to her feet, “okay, okay, you win.” She said, “its perfect, alright, we'll go back there.” Raven started to grin. Which, made Octavia roll her eyes in mock exasperation which she knew that Raven could easily see right through because of the smile Octavia felt spreading over her face, “looks like you get your way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title Inspired by: 'That's What Friends are For'  
> by Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder, Gladys Knight, and Elton John
> 
> \--==--


	38. Back to Back

She had barely left the housing development. She hadn’t gone far into the icy thick forest surrounding it before she first smelled the smoke. It brought her fast steps to a halt. Clarke looked up and felt her stomach drop at the sight of it billowing up out of the forest. She ran toward it. As she did she moved around trees that seemed to jump in her way. She felt herself pulling her knife when she heard the first of the screams from ahead collide into her ears. It sounded like a group of people. She had something she was supposed to be doing. But what if she was the only hope for them? What if she’d seen or caused enough death to go by to just let someone else die out here when she could help? But the screams stopped suddenly as they started and with a sick feeling she knew what that meant. Even as the smoke intensified and she saw fire in the trees at last even though she knew what the lack of voices in pain meant it only made her angrier and made her run harder toward where they had been anyway.

She crashed into the scene without thinking about it, and maybe she shouldn't have. She only had time to realize this was not a village but a caravan of people that had been in transit that were now nothing but bloodied and spilling bodies strewn about the icy forest floor as their caravan burned when a hand grabbed her waist from behind and pushed the sharp blade of a knife to her throat. She felt the cut start and as it did so many images flashed brightly behind her eyes in rapid succession one over the other; _her home on the ark, playing chess with Wells, her dad’s smile, the view of Earth from her cell, her mom with her at Skybox, falling to the ground, Bellamy, Octavia, Lincoln, Raven..._

_Lexa burning her soul with their first kiss._

The sound of an arrow ripping past her body to sink into the side of her would be killer brought her back. She felt his body jolt and his knife drop with the force of the impact and she watched a second arrow bury itself in slow motion beside the first in a spray of blood as she watched the body fall. Lincoln was charging her; he shoved her to the ground and fired two more arrows into another oncoming warrior before landing on top of her, that warrior’s body fell bloody from the impact of Lincoln’s arrows on top of them. She was barely able to register what was going on and had finally tightened her grip on her knife. He kept a hand on her head holding her down. She heard the rush of his breath near her ear. Footsteps were closing. He jerked up fast and so did she. Two warriors charged them from the trees. She backed up a step and threw her knife. It buried into one’s heart as Lincoln’s arrow whistled past and dropped the other one. He looked at her in surprise. She just shrugged and offered him a quiet self-depreciative smile. Then they had their backs together and were scanning the trees.

This went on some seconds. At last, Lincoln finally spoke, “I think that’s all of them.”

Behind him, she nodded, “I think so.”

He turned, which made her turn too. He looked at her, “You’re bleeding.”

She trailed her fingertips across the cut on her neck. She pulled her fingers back to find they were red, “its fine. It's not deep. Just skin.” She stared at him as it hit her, “you saved my life.” Even if she knew it wasn’t the first time he had, it still brought her a considerable, shaky amount of pause that she felt clear into her bones, “thank you.” He nodded. She looked down at the dead men whom had killed this camp and had tried to kill her and noticed she couldn’t recognize them “Who are they?” She asked. She would have thought Azgeda. But these were not Azgeda.

“I don’t know.” He looking at the bodies. He looked at her again. She saw him notice the gray streaks in her hair. She saw him tense up suddenly as the adrenaline of the encounter wore off and he skipped straight over the _‘what are you doing out here’_ question and got straight to, “is she okay?” because Lincoln already knew without asking that there was no way in hell she’d be away from where Lexa was unless something was wrong. And she also knew he wasn’t about to say her title out here out in the trees. So Clarke just nodded, “she’s fine. She wanted me to--”

Clarke broke off when she heard the low, quiet groan. Someone was alive. Lincoln heard it too. They both turned and rushed the direction of the sound and found a woman laying face down by the remains of a cart that looked like it had once been the bed of a truck. Clarke hit her knees first and turned the woman over. She was alive but there was so much blood spilling out of her abdomen. Clarke tore off her cardigan. She pressed it into the wound but blood started soaking the top instantly and wetting her hands.  It made her panic.  It made her words breathy and fast and strung together, "you're going... goingtobeokay. You'regoingtobeokay..." 

“Griffin…” the woman whispered.

Clarke felt her face twist up in confusion for a second then the woman’s eyes opened and Clarke recognized her under all the blood, “Nygel?” she asked. Her heart started beating faster in her ribs and she pushed the shirt harder into the wound. No, she didn’t like this woman at all but she was from the Ark. Nygel’s eyes fluttered again as though she was trying to open them. But Clarke knew it. She knew it the moment the woman died because she had seen it so many damn times. Breathing stopped. But blood was still spilling. Spilling and spilling as it soaked through the cloth she was trying to push harder and harder in, “Nygel.. no. You can’t die now. No--”

“She’s gone Clarke.” Lincoln tugged at her arm.

She nodded weakly. She knew she was. Still, sniffling hard she pulled up to her feet using him for support as she did. Clarke stepped away from him. As she did, she felt distant, as she did she felt a icy feeling spread over her skin as she slowly cast her gaze around at the fallen. The cold feeling turned to tremors of dead and realization as she lurched forward suddenly toward the next body she saw, and the next, and the next and the next after that. One after another she turned them all over, this one from engineering where her dad had worked, this one a teacher, this one a mechanic, a janitor, a kid, a lunch lady.  So many faces she had seen every day. She knew them all. She knew them all. She pulled away from the last one numb inside, as ice, as death, as if her own spirit had seeped out their dying wounds. All were dead. She turned to Lincoln whom had been standing silently just watching this unfold. She knew she didn’t have to tell him. She could see it in his eyes that he already knew. But the words were strong from her lips and angry because suddenly that was the only way she could be, “these people are from the Ark.” She pointed the direction of the bodies.

“Camp Jaha?”

“No,” she answered, looking around again, “one of the missing stations.” She said. That was when it sank in like a rock thrown into a still pond, skipping and skipping until with its own weight it finally sunk; she’d been gone too long. She’d been away too long. And like the ripples on the pond she felt a tremor of anger for these deaths and anger at herself start to build and spread out.

Lincoln saw it too, “we will find who did this--”

But his words were cut off suddenly as a distant sound of horns carried through the trees. But it was louder somehow and deeper somehow, than the sound of any warning horns she knew or heard on Earth so far. She could tell by the way it carried that up close it would be a noise that made everything rattle and tremble including her insides. But she also noticed that up close or not it rattled Lincoln anyway because he turned sharply the first second the sound spilled over them and stared the direction it came from. Even after the sound was gone and his quiet and stark reaction suddenly made her anxious, suddenly made that curl of anger inside her turn to a sharp spike of dread, “what was that?” she asked under her breath.

“That was out of Polis.” He said without turning.

She wrinkled her face, “it can reach all the way here?”

“They have relay stations,” he said as though that wasn’t important, “those horns are only ever used for two messages. The first time you hear them, it means they have found aspirants possible to be Heda.” Finally he turned to her, “and they are testing them.”

Clarke felt herself inhale and knew she had done so loudly enough that Lincoln heard it. She knew all the reasons without having to say them why suddenly everything felt so tense. His eyes stared into hers with traces of dark concern in them. Clarke let out the breath, “she wants you to go and bring Indra back. That’s why I am here.”

“With them testing in Polis, we will never get in,” he answered, “They will have the whole city sealed off until its done.”

“But she wants to know what’s going on out here,” Clarke said, hating how she sounded almost, but just almost, desperate.

“I know nothing about what is happening in Polis. But can tell her what I know.” Lincoln offered, “she will understand, Clarke, if the city is locked.”

“Thank you.” Clarke said. She looked around her, “we will come back for my people.” She decided. She wasn’t about to just leave their bodies in disrespect. She started away quickly. She didn’t need to say anything else. Lincoln caught up to her and she was glad he was there, that he walked with her just as quickly, back the way she had come.


	39. Heralds

They heard the army’s arrival and ran over the hillside just in time to see it pour like water from a bucket into Camp Jaha.

Bellamy lowered the bag of explosives he had to the forest floor. He could only watch in drained silence from the hilltop as what seemed like hundreds of Grounders started to ransack their home looking for anyone whom still might be there, whom still might be alive. Even from up here he could feel their distaste for finding the place deserted like someone had sucked away all their fun. He closed his eyes for a second to swallow down feelings he was feeling –anger, resentment, desperation, determination, fear and the need to fight this army—down into the pit of his stomach where they wadded together into a sick and twisting knot. He looked over at Jasper who was watching the scene as well. Tight-lipped Jasper spoke first, “we’re too late.”

Bellamy heard him. But he stared in silence a second longer as he tried to put together in his mind what do next, “back to the rover,” he said at last under his breath so as not to be overheard. But he doubted from the noise below, that anyone would hear them through it. Picking up Jasper’s bag and slinging it onto his back along with his own he started back the other direction they had just come from. They had taken the rover from the Mountain to get back here faster, which, seemed pointless now.  But they had left it at the bottom of the hill –thank God- and had not driven all the way into the camp for the simple reason of not wanting it to be blown up. Behind him, he heard Jasper move and catch up with him. They walked quickly. But they walked in silence. Bellamy opened the back door and tossed the bags of explosives in and closed the door. Jasper was getting in on the passenger side of the vehicle. Leaving Bellamy to drive. Bellamy didn’t care. He knew Jasper really hadn’t been up to learning to drive a vehicle. So he opened the driver side door, got in and closed it again.

He only hoped the army on the other side of the hill was still being loud enough that they wouldn’t hear the engine as Bellamy started the rover up. He didn’t give it time to find out, backing away he turned the rover around and started over the landscape, including a wide circle around camp Jaha, toward Tondc. For the first few minutes from time to time he used the rear view mirror to look behind him. So did Jasper. Finally Jasper said, “I don’t think they’re coming.”

“We’re lucky.” Bellamy answered, “even this won’t hold out against an army.”

What took about eight hours to walk took less than an hour by Rover. The guards in the trees to the sides of the road saw them long before they arrived at the gate, stopped the vehicle and got out. As they got out guards took that moment to arrive as well. Without saying a word to them Bellamy stared unbuckling the belt that carried his gun. He dropped it into the bin meant to hold blades, swords and other things. Jasper wasn’t carrying anything—

“Bellamy?” Kane appeared around the edge of the gate. Abby appeared around the edge of the gate as well. The two of them looked more tired and worn than usual, cuts and bruises were on their faces and hands and arms. That was when Bellamy remembered they were now training to fight like grounders. Bellamy’s posture was tense in the first place from what had happened back at the camp but then Nyko and several grounders appeared as well. Jasper walked up to his other side.

Bellamy cleared his throat. He did so because he knew what this would mean for all of them. Not just the Arkers, “Octavia was right.” He said at last. He saw Kane and Abby and Nyko look at each other. He heard the whispers start to form behind the three of them in that choppy yet smooth language these people had that Octavia had, on many occasions, been trying to teach to him. He finished shortly in a reserved tone, “a Grounder army has just moved into Camp Jaha.”

Kane’s eyes widened. So did Abby’s. So did Nyko’s. It was Nyko though who stepped forward, “you are sure?”

Bellamy spared him a nod. Jasper spoke up, “we saw it.”

Kane seemed to find his voice, “do you know who they were?”

“No idea, sir.” Bellamy answered, “but they came from the south. Probably 300 of them. Maybe more.”

“Only Azgeda can be that strong, with the forces also needed at the capitol.” Nyko muttered, discomfort and irritation hard in his voice.

“But from the South?” Kane demanded, looking at Nyko.

“How they got there is not important. I will send scouts out. We need to be sure it’s them. Either way, whoever it is,” Nyko looked at Bellamy and Jasper again, “this is dangerously close to an act of war.”

“Then, we are at war?” Kane asked, though his tone was uncomfortably hard there was also evident in it that he really did not want this to happen.

“Not until someone draws first blood.” Nyko replied.

"Excuse me for saying so," Bellamy broke in flatly.  He looked a the three as they turned, he looked at Jasper who looked back at him.  Bellamy said, "whoever that was back there, they had every intention of doing that today."

"Sha." Nyko agreed, "that they did." He turned around then. He started barking out fast orders. As he did Bellamy watched people scramble back inside the gates. Abby spoke up, her face white but stern as though she was going to see this through, “what do we do?”

“Right now, send word to the capital.” Nyko replied, “to Indra.”

Bellamy spoke up then, “I think they will move on Tondc next.”

Nyko nodded, “I think you are right.”

“We were going to blow it up, Camp Jaha. But they got there before we could.” Jasper spoke up finally, “there’s explosives in the rover.”

“We can build a perimeter with them.” Abby said to Kane, and then she looked at Nyko as well, as if for permission. That unsettled Bellamy a little, to see Abby have to ask. But this was a grounder village. He spoke up anyway, “you know, I know I really have nothing to say in what goes down here. But Octavia was right. That is the second time I’ve said that here now. And I am ..well..” he couldn’t quite use the word ‘glad’ or even ‘encouraged’ to the fact that the Grounders had allowed Skaikru sanctuary inside Tondc but he knew if they hadn’t everyone would be dead – right now. So he tried again, “thankful, you let my people come here,” he said that directly to Nyko. Then he included Abby and Kane and the others as well, “but you will have to excuse me, all three of you, if I tell you to put aside your stupid ours-and-yours shit and get out the guns. Because what I’ve seen back there,” he pointed back to camp Jaha, “even with all your best intentions here unless my people have learned drastically in just a few days enough to fight against those grounders grounder style you just don’t have the numbers to hold them off with just arrows and swords if they come here now.”

“Bellamy..” Abby and Kane both scolded under their breath.

But Nyko inhaled deeply, “Kaia has still not come, so I must make the decisions I must, and the boy is right.”

That surprised Bellamy. It surprised Abby and Kane as well as they turned to look at the grounder healer. Nyko didn’t seem to notice it though. An expression of inward study and conflict crossed over his face then he at last looked at them again, “if it is Azgeda. They will wait a few days to make their move. They won’t act without strategy, and because of Belomi,” he nodded to Bellamy, “we have a few days to make our plan. I regret to say, we will probably have to make this stand before backup arrives from the capital. You skaikru,” he said, “I will allow you to use your own weapons.”

Kane’s mouth opened a little in surprise, “thank you.” Was all he managed to say.

Nyko added, “but we will use ours.”

“Okay.” Abby agreed.

“Just tell me one thing,” Nyko asked carefully, “you did not leave your weapons at your camp?”

“We buried them in a old bunker near the kids drop-ship.” Abby replied, she glanced at Kane. He added in, “we didn’t think it smart to leave them just laying there. In case it came to something like this.” Kane paused a second before adding, “we will have to go get them. On foot that will take time.”

“Plus there is an enemy army not very far.” Abby added in distress.

“Take the Rover.” Bellamy spoke up, he’d been watching the back and forth of this conversation. They looked at him and he looked back at the Rover in question then at them again, “I will help you get them, we can have them back before dark.” He looked at Nyko next, “then I will go to your capitol.”

“They won’t let you into--”

\--The tremble of horns fell over the land, but unlike anything else Bellamy had heard on Earth so far, the tone of these horns was incredibly deep. So close and loud it hurt his ears, so close that it vibrated the trees and the ground under his feet, shaking his insides. It was unexpected and made Bellamy look up toward it. When the noise faded at last he noticed that everyone else, including Marcus and Abby and Nyko and all the other grounders as well, were looking toward that sound. Everyone seemed concerned, or, even encouraged beyond the gate. Except Nyko, whom, from the side of his face that Bellamy could see, had his jaw tight and his mouth set in a grim line staring the direction the noise had come from.

Kane asked first what Bellamy was thinking, “What was that?”

Bellamy watched as Nyko inhaled, probably deeper than he had ever seen the stiff and sullen grounder ever do, before he turned from the horns to glance at the excited and hurried whispers and gasps and shouts coming from his village. Finally Nyko turned from the village to look at him, to look at Abby and Kane and Jasper as well, “I am afraid,” he said slowly with a firm lift of his chin, “that no one is getting into the capitol now.”


	40. In Sight of the Forest, In Sight of the Trees..

Clarke hadn’t been gone long when Lexa heard the horns sound in the distance. For a second she wasn’t even sure she had heard them. But she had. She stopped her pacing as the sound faded and turned with her arms still folded behind her back.

_No._

But it was the sound she thought it was. There was no doubt. She gulped down the lump threatening to strangle her at the back of her throat.

Her reaction wasn’t one at the prospect of being replaced. She knew her whole life that was bound to happen someday. Her reaction was a product of knowing what she had just learned and the fall out that was due to come out of this happening now. The people would think Heda had abandoned them when one did not appear. And a war between Clans would be nothing like the bloodshed of a civil war ensuing from those doubts in her own streets.

Even when Clarke found Lincoln, it would be too late. Even when she found him, there was no way he’d be getting into Polis now. They were on their own. The realization was difficult. Indra would soon find her way out of the city, especially now. Lexa knew her well enough to know that. But Lexa didn’t know when that would be. They would have to start working a plan without her, to stop this if they could, if not then with as little bloodshed as possible. Had she died, it would have been done, or so she had first believed. But even without meaning to Clarke had put the idea in Lexa’s head – would it be done? Would her death be the end of it? The question held weight enough. And she had to find another way, for her people and for Clarke somehow she had lined up a battle on two different proverbial fronts.

She couldn’t approach Polis without being killed on sight, she was sure. Clarke couldn’t approach Polis, without protection from herself or Indra, which now boiled down to just Indra, she would be killed quickly as possible as well. Clarke was smart, Lexa had known that from the very moment they met. She was sure Clarke had some idea about how much trouble the title Wanheda put her in but she also knew that Clarke probably had no idea the real amount of danger said new title meant for her.

And she had sent her out maybe for nothing now. And if they found her, Lexa thought, _if they found her…._

She would be fine. Lexa worried her lip teeth but only just so. She would be fine. She reminded herself again, Clarke was smart. But without even realizing it for a few seconds Lexa started pacing again. She only knew it when she heard the click of her boots on the ruined boards of the floor. She only knew it when she found herself taking in Clarke’s drawings again. They calmed her, somehow. She was so absorbed in them as she made a slow circle around the room that she almost didn’t hear the click as the handle turned on the door.

She turned quickly when she did though. Hoping for Clarke but her training telling her it could be anyone. She braced until the door flung open wide and Clarke was taking her hood off as she pushed her way through. She didn’t stop moving forward into the room and Lexa moved forward just as quickly and slid her arms around Clarke and pulled her tightly against her. Clarke’s arms slid around her waist and Lexa buried her face in her ash-streaked hair. Lexa inhaled it but she didn’t care, “are you okay?” she asked. She dropped a slow kiss on the side of Clarke’s neck and as she lifted her lips from Clarke’s warm skin she caught Lincoln’s eye as he stood just inside the door. Lexa saw both surprise and understanding cross his face as he recognized what he had just witnessed and then quickly and respectfully he adverted his gaze.

“I’m fine,” Clarke pulled back just enough to look into her face. But a dribble of blood was drying on her neck. Lexa touched it, “you’re bleeding.” The sight brought her temper straight to the surface just like this cut did with Clarke’s blood.

“I’m fine.” Clarke repeated, her hands tightened their grip a little on arms as if to reassure her, “its just skin, Lexa. Lincoln killed the guy who did it before he cut deep.” She looked over her shoulder at him and then at her again.

“He saved your life?” Relief filled Lexa like she hadn’t imagined possible. She glanced at Lincoln as well whom must have felt her gaze because only now did he turn back to look at them fully. She looked back at Clarke for confirmation.

“Yes.”

Lexa released Clarke and stepped to where he stood, “thank you, Lincoln.” For once did not shield the sincerity she felt burning in her eyes as she looked from him and back to Clarke. Having seen what had just passed between them and knowing what he knew now, she was certain she would understand the depth of this when she met his eyes again.

“You are welcome, Heda.” He said at last, he looked over at Clarke, “but with respect, she is my friend, so I help when I can.” he turned his attention back to Lexa.

Lexa had one more reply, “you are forgiven, Lincoln.”

“Heda?” his eyes got just fractionally wider as he realized what she was talking about. Still, for official purposes, she clarified, “blood for blood, a life for a life. When this is done I will see it happens. You will be restored to the Trikru, banishment lifted and the title Natrona removed. Octavia will be welcomed back with opened arms as well.”

“Muchof, Heda.” Lincoln quietly replied. But she could see by the shine in his eyes how much this meant.

“Pro, Linkon.” She glanced behind him, “now, close the door.”

He moved to do so. Lexa was aware out of the corner of her eye of Clarke smiling at her proudly. She turned to her. The smile faded but just a little. Clarke touched the cut in her throat, “I am going to get cleaned up. Lincoln has things he wants to talk to you about. He says we can’t get into Polis.”

“I heard the horns,” she answered matter-of-factly, “he is right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t anything you have done, Clarke.” Lexa answered.

Clarke nodded softly. After a second she looked between both of them, “did you need me to stay for anything?”

“No, go ahead.” Lexa answered, “get that clean.”

“Okay,” Clarke made her way to the fire. Lexa watched her take one of the buckets warming there and head all the way up the stairs with it. She listened for her to close the bathroom door behind her before she turned to Lincoln, “what happened?” she asked, though no animosity was in her voice at all she made it clear she wanted the facts.

“A caravan was attacked in the trees, just outside of this place. I assume that Clarke heard the screams and went to try and save them.” He answered.

That would have been something Clarke would do. Put other’s safety before her own, “and did she?”

“No. Everyone was already dead. Heda,” he said, and the way he said her title with a touch of concerned stress made her study him curiously. He said, “The caravan was Skaikru.”

“Skaikru?” she asked carefully, “from her camp?” Skaikru had earned the ground their camp was currently on. She thought that Kane understood to respect the rest of the land about. Unless …unless they were forced out of their camp after her fall.

“No,” he answered, “from somewhere else. Clarke believes they are from another station that went missing when the Ark fell.”

“I see.” Lexa replied without aggression, just with acceptance for what it was. But it also brought to mind another question she had to ask, “and the Skaikru at her camp? Do you know anything about them?” She lost the power to protect them. Any Clan could have rolled over them. She wasn’t sure if Clarke had thought of this yet.

“Octavia left for there the night she helped Clarke get you away from Polis,” he began, “if they listened to her, if Kane listened to her like she believed she could get him to do, she should have them moved to Tondc by now.”

“They went to Tondc?” she couldn’t quite keep the edge of surprise out of her voice.

“If they listened to Octavia, yes.”

“Good.” Lexa decided. Kane was smart. All the Skaikru tended to be stubborn but she knew Kane was smart enough to know they could not stand-alone against any of the Clan’s armies that might decide to wipe them out. She added, “Though I am surprised Indra allowed this.”

“It was her idea, Heda.”

Lexa grunted under her breath. Indra seemed to be getting a lot of ideas lately. She did not mention this though. Instead she folded her arms and asked, “What else can you tell me, Lincoln?”

“The Skaldakru have left Polis.”

Immediately she unfolded her arms again, “what?” They were ordered to stay until Heda was found. She demanded, “including General Travar?”

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “I only saw their army go. But they are not the only army I have …concerns about.”

“Concerns?” She already knew who he was about to mention, “Azgeda?”

“Yes, Heda.” Lincoln agreed.

Lexa took a deep breath to keep from rolling her eyes. Lincoln went on, “the Azgeda have been marching loose formations some distance from the capitol from time to time.”

Of course they would take advantage of this. But she could not make those accusations out loud. Still, she knew tension was spilling off of her and into the room but she kept her voice level anyway, “have they attacked anywhere you know of?”

“No. Not yet. Not that I know of.”

“But?” she prompted. Lexa could sense him wanting to add it, “go on, Lincoln. Speak true.”

He answered, “I have no doubt they will.”

Neither did she. But the question was, where? The easiest conclusion would be Polis. But that was part of the reason why she had left the rest of the army there. She paced a slow circle then considering it a minute. No. They would not be foolish enough to attack the capitol, not even now, “we will not let our guard down on this. But for now,” she turned back to Lincoln, “leave nothing out. Is there more?”

“Just what I have seen,” he replied slowly, “your people are fleeing, Heda. You should find your backing with them.”

He meant, should you need somewhere safe, go to them. This in so many words said where her support would still be. So she asked what she had partially already planned, “if it comes to it, will they fight?”  she hoped it would not, but she knew it would come to it.

“Yes.” He took a step forward, “if you call, I believe some will.”

She felt the tightness leave her chest a little hearing that. She looked toward the window and reflected back from the start of their conversation, “Do people roam these woods here often? Have attacks like the one just now happen here often?” Right now, she needed to hear the word 'no' to each of these questions.

“Besides the Azgeda armies which I have seen,” he answered, “what happened today was a first on both counts, as an attack and as for having seen any others here other than yourself and Clarke, Heda.”

“So it was isolated?” She asked, she hoped.

”Yes.” He answered, “so far it seems so.”

Good. “Thank you, Lincoln.” She said at last, “for telling me these things. Now,” she considered it all briefly and she also considered what had happened out in the woods today, “you should stay here. There is much to talk about over the next few days, and more when Indra arrives.” She also thought of her own damaged hands and of Clarke but she said nothing about this and offered in light of that fact she was hiding instead, “and you could be needed.”

“Yes Heda.” He acknowledged her orders wishes with a slight nod.

Lexa returned it, "Lincoln." It was his dismissal and he moved away. Finally, she turned and went upstairs.

Clarke was in their bedroom pulling a light blue shirt made of knit over her head. She had already had on a dark pair of pants. Lexa leaned in the door-frame, “thank you for bringing him.”

Clarke turned around. She flipped her wet hair out from under her shirt, “thank you for letting him go.”

Lexa smiled at her from the door-frame, “he has earned it.”

Clarke smiled back at her, so faintly, almost as if she was saying, _‘you’ve only just realized this’_ but instead she asked, “so how did it go?”

“He brought information that is helpful, if troublesome. We’ll talk of it soon.” Lexa moved forward then until she reached where Clarke was, “let me see this?” she leaned in just a little to look at the cut. Clarke tipped her head back slightly for her and Lexa slid her fingertips gently over the cleaned wound. It didn’t look as angry now that it wasn’t leaking blood, just a small line as Clarke had said. But the idea alone that someone _had tried…_ she knew her eyes were growing dark just at the thought.

“It’s fine, Lexa, really.” Clarke’s fingertips touched hers. She heard a slight laugh in Clarke’s throat that she was inspecting. But still, she set her lips very gently to the cut and kissed it before looking up at Clarke again, “chit?” She dropped her arms to hold her, enjoying the feel of Clarke’s arms also sliding around her waist.

“And you say I worry?” Clarke slid a thumb over Lexa’s cheekbone.

Lexa closed her eyes in amusement of hearing her words said back to her. Opening them she admitted, “maybe we both do.” She added, “Lincoln knows about us.”

Clarke seemed surprised but said, “he does?”

Lexa finally smiled at her, “He saw us at the door.”

Clarke laughed under her breath, “I should have known Lincoln would be the first to find out.”

“I thought maybe Indra would.” Lexa admitted, “are you ready to go back down?”

“Face the music?” Clarke asked, her smile widening a little more.

Lexa felt her face contort a little, “sometimes you say the strangest things, Clarke.”

“It means, sure,” Clarke answered her, shaking her head just a little, “lets go.”


	41. Wings

Everywhere she looked rubble reached out of the ground, like broken fingers still trying to touch the sky. Forest and wildlife had moved in, giving the old base an uncannily hopeless look. But in the light of day, what had only seemed a few buildings they hid between the previous evening, brick and mortar, asphalt and concrete remains of what had once been a modern day fortress that sprawled further and further out.

The horses were tied off inside a half standing building. Then they had broken into groups of two to see if anything useful, like bullets, might be found in light of their newest problem that the six of them were pretty much on their own. Octavia had grouped with Raven. Wick and Monty were also split up with Harper and Miller. In the remains of what had might once been some sort of workshop Raven’s digging had found mostly reusable scrap in the form of metal and parts of machinery, the mechanic’s eyes glossed over at some of it and she began taking it apart on the spot, “Raven.” Octavia interrupted her, she glanced at the door because they didn’t have all day to do this and there was so much more of the base left to cover. Raven only glanced at her and went back to what she was doing. Octavia grunted, “radios?” she asked, trying to figure out what this was.

Raven looked over at her, “oh no, this is so much better…" she looked at pieces in front of her, stepped away and came to where Octavia was, “we can use this to get signals into space…”

“Soo…” Octavia prompted. She turned and looked around for a minute. Shelves were filled here with, old equipment boxes. Most were empty. A small, oblong object lay in one. Out of boredom she pulled this out of its box and started tossing it back and forth in her hands as she turned back to Raven, “to do what?”

“Establish contact with the stuff on the part of the Ark still in orbit?” Raven was using that tone that suggested Octavia was inept as she tried to explain, “You know, use it as a satellite?”

While she could see how that was important –maybe- she said, “that isn’t going to help us right now.”

Raven grunted, she bit her lips together and looked back at the scrap. Octavia smiled at it, “it will still be here, I am sure, when we’re done. It’s been here almost a hundred years as it is.”

“Uh huh,” Raven grumbled at her.

Octavia flashed her a quick smile and said, “right now, we need stuff that will help us in a fight.”

“Okay.” Raven agreed, if sullenly.

“So lets keep looking.” Octavia replied, she turned to the door and left the building with Raven a step behind her. It was brighter out than she remembered it being. Probably they were in there longer than she had thought. Octavia started continued their walk toward the back of the area they had been assigned and as she did she saw Raven’s eyes scanning all the broken, rusted out vehicles they were now passing. Octavia asked, “they won’t work?”

“Ninety-seven years of sitting out in the elements? Unlikely. But I sure as hell am going to one day take a look one day.” She glanced over at Octavia. Octavia saw Raven’s face change as she caught sight of what Octavia was tossing back and forth in her hands, “what is that?” Raven asked, stopping. Octavia did too, “this?” she asked, holding the metal object out.

Raven’s eyes flew wide, “that’s a grenade!” she grabbed it away from Octavia quickly, “not a baseball! Shit, Octavia!” Raven held the grenade up carefully in emphasis, “do you know what this is?”

“Ah…” Octavia tried, but all she could come up with was one word, “...dangerous?”

Raven was still glaring at her and held the grenade in emphasis, “this is me,” she said, glancing to it in implication before glaring back at Octavia, “old world style.”

Octavia had to think about that a second, “so …it blows up stuff?”

“Yeah,” Raven replied. She very –very- carefully put the grenade into a single pocket of a bag she had been carrying to pick up stuff they found. Then she started walking again, “you’ve basically been playing with…"

“A bomb?” Octavia asked, catching up with her to keep pace at her side.

“Close enough..” Raven replied, and Octavia felt a smile shift over her face. She was so glad, so glad, for the day Raven fell out of the sky to join them. A few seconds of silence ticked by as they strode through fallen buildings and old machinery, “hey O?” she asked at last. And by the tone of her voice, Octavia could tell something was coming Raven had been thinking of for a little while now. Octavia picked her way over some debris that littered her path and braced as Raven grimaced at herself, at having an injured leg, Octavia knew, but still eventually put a hand on Octavia’s shoulder and made her way over the debris the same. When they were walking again Raven finally asked, "So,” she asked, “what you told us?” she looked over at Octavia, “how does Clarke and Lexa fit into it?”

She wasn’t surprised at the question. Octavia also couldn’t believe that she hadn’t remembered to bring this up while they were on it, “you know I disagree with a lot of what the both of them had done. But,” Octavia added with some sort of just being so _tired_ of being angry finality, “I think it is just time to let it go. Bitterness gets us nowhere in this.  And Heda,” she began, then changed it for her friend, “Lexa, is the coalition, Raven, in spite of everything else, she is the one who built it. So, we need her to make this work.”

Raven only grunted somewhat ominously as they continued to walk. They were passing through several large, metal half drum shaped hangers now that looked they could possibly swallow many other remains of the buildings around here whole with plenty room left over. Drawing a breath in deep through her nose Raven said at last, “I will tolerate her..”

“Thank you.” Octavia answered immediately, because she knew this would be harder for Raven, considering her history with Lexa, than it was going to be for herself.

Raven stopped where she was and turned to look at Octavia, “but don’t expect me to like it, and don’t expect me to be friendly, either.”

Octavia had stopped as well and turned and gave Raven a understanding nod, “okay.” She agreed.

Raven worked her jaw a little, her lips a thin line, “I don’t know how you can do it, just move on?”

“Because I have to.” Octavia answered. It was the truth. It was a matter of fact. To do this, she had to stay focused and not bitter. That was what worked for her. She would never judge or try to say what should work for Raven.

”And Clarke?” Raven asked, “what’s her deal in all this?”

“She is Wanheda. The Commander of Death,” Octavia clarified before she was asked, again, what that meant. Octavia looked around at the buildings. So did Raven. Raven just grunted though and started walking away. Octavia watched as the mechanic started tugging at the handles of the small access doors that led into the large hangars. And she said nothing about it, because she knew that Raven had to have something to do when they were talking about things difficult like this. So she stood where she was and called over to Raven, “she is seen by some, as stronger than Heda right now.”

“Because she brought down the Mountain?” Raven asked, pulling at a lock, “hey O, can you come hit this with your sword or something?”

Octavia smiled to herself and went to where Octavia was. Drawing her sword out she flipped it and smashed the rusted lock open with the butt of the weapon. Then she put it away, leaned back into the metal wall, "actually, yeah." Octavia said.  Then she went back to Raven's question, "we need them both.”

“Right.” Raven said as she pulled open the door. It squealed loudly on rusted hinges, fell against the outer wall, and broke off to fall to the rubble. Octavia watched, trying to decipher Raven’s body language. Because suddenly Raven stilled abruptly in the frame of that rusted door, staring at something inside. It was a look Raven wore a lot.  It was the look she wore when she found something that was up her mechanical alley or things were starting to click inside her head when working some mechanical problem out. But Raven’s mouth had fallen open just a little as well, and her eyes were very nearly gleaming and, Octavia noticed, she had also actually stopped breathing. Octavia pushed away from the wall, “Raven?” She asked in concern.

“Octavia?” Raven finally spoke, but she didn’t stop staring ahead and the way that Raven had actually used her whole name brought Octavia a certain degree of pause as she asked back cautiously, "yeah?"

“What if I said I can’t give you an army?”

Octavia replied, “yeah, I know.  Not your fault, though."

Raven slid her gaze slowly to Octavia’s eyes, “but what if I said, I _can_ give you wings?”

Octavia felt her eyes twitch a little as she tried to understand what Raven was getting at, “what?”

Raven said nothing. A smile crept over her face, a very wide one, actually, that Octavia hadn't seen in a while. Then Raven turned and stepped through the metal door they had opened. Without thinking about it Octavia followed her in.

And stopped.

In the dim light provided by the door she saw a black helicopter settled on a pad of pavement right in front of her.

To be honest, the sight of it made her stomach do flip flops of both anxiety and adrenaline inside her. It did all this because Raven had already walked over to it and was running her hand along its smooth black metal side. It did all this, because of Raven’s original question, _what if I said I can give you wings?_ She realized silently and somewhat distantly from herself that there were at least three other helicopters just like this in this hangar as well.

Octavia felt her mouth drop open, and go dry. Something it rarely did. She closed it fast.

“It’s a Blackhawk.” Raven said proudly as she worked her way around the helicopter. She stood back just enough to fold her arms and look up at it, “I read about them in Earth History.”

Finally, finally, Octavia got control of herself again. She stepped forward. She motioned to the helicopter sitting there at the same time that she looked at Raven, “you can fly this?” she asked, the words more weak from shock than she had hoped.

Raven looked at her as though she had just been insulted, “I flew down from space, O, remember? In a drop pod I _rebuilt myself_?”

“But …you can fly this?” Octavia asked again, she had to hear it, just to be sure. She looked between the helicopter and Raven.

Raven’s eyes were dancing over the helicopters in front of them, pristine because of the hangar that had been sheltering them, as though they had just been parked there the day before. "If it still has good fuel," Raven smiled over at her as she answered, “oh hell yeah.”


	42. Battlegrounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE 1:** Heya all. I haven't been ignoring you...
> 
> Especially after the lovely comments on my last update. It seems though, the computer I had saved and was using to write this story on -- crashed out a few days ago. Taking my yet unpublished chapters with it....
> 
> So, I had to re-write them (since I am writing all new content now, out of pre-written chapters to post). So, it took a few days more to get back to you all than I hoped. :(
> 
> Since I am writing new content, I am up for stuff to include in this work. Just remember the tone I am trying to use in this work and -if I can- I will try to include it. 
> 
> **NOTE 2:** Also, all you wonderful people, a little heads up - I can see the end of this story in sight. Not soon, but probably in another 20-30 chapters or so, give or take a few either direction. BUT DON'T DESPAIR.  This is only Part One of this series. I will continue it right where Part 1 leaves off in Part 2 (its just getting a little too long to keep as one work) Also, I will make sure part two is easy to find for you. 
> 
> Have a good day everyone 
> 
> X X
> 
> -DistantStar

“No.” Nyko was firm on this. This part of the subway had been rebuilt first, for temporary housing. But some homes had been rebuilt since, and since, the Skaikru had moved in. The one called Marcus always said this part felt like home to him anyway, since it was where he was first shown into it, or thrown into it, as Marcus had put it, trying to lighten the tone a little. Nyko could see why he had nearly from the start earned Heda’s respect. Marcus seemed somewhat like an idealist and he was open to other people’s beliefs.

But Nyko was just a healer.

He shouldn’t have to be dealing with all of this.

But the chain of command was a dauntless thing and he had a feeling in his gut that Kaia wasn’t going to come back.

“Why?” the one called Bellamy asked, stepping up to the table, his face set hard as stone as he pointed back toward the doors, “it will take maybe 12 of us with guns to do it.”

Nyko replied, “It will start a war.”

“We are at war.” Bellamy stated.

Marcus chose that moment to interject, “not yet.”

“Not yet?” Bellamy asked back, “more and more Grounders--”

“Azgeda.” Marcus corrected again, politically but calmly. Beside him Abby nodded and Nyko saw how the clarification calmed the bristle of his people also in the room but at the same time made Bellamy bristle instead. Abby spoke up, “there are several Clans of people here who were already living on the ground, Bellamy,” she said, and Nyko noticed how she was trying not to use the term “Grounder” as though it was wrong. It wasn’t so much wrong. It was what they were. But it was the idea of being lumped all together into one with no separate ideals from each other that caused unrest.

Bellamy cleared his throat though his tone hadn’t changed, “more and more Azgeda are arriving at camp Jaha. How many will you wait for?” he asked, “until we can’t take them?”

Nyko lifted his chin at last. He had enough of this anger. He slammed his fists down, not hard, but just enough to make his point, “there will be fighting if they come to us,” he nearly snarled. He narrowed his eyes on Bellamy though and made his point, “but we will _not_ start this war. We will _not_ be the ones to break the coalition. We _will not_ draw first blood.”

“Then we will die.” Bellamy countered.

“The Azgeda way is to always strike first!” Nyko came around the corner of the table to where Bellamy was, “we are not the Azgeda!”

\--==--

“So, think you can fly it?” Raven sat in the cockpit of the Blackhawk with Octavia, Monty and Kyle. She was speaking to the latter two, Octavia was waiting on the answer as well as she was. She looked out the opened side doors, toward the other three helicopters. Monty was looking over all the controls with that look on his face that said he was absorbing what he was looking at. Wick however was busy staring between Raven and the controls. Both were still speechless. A minute or two ticked past. Raven pried, “well?” a cocky grin crossed her face as though she’d finally won a long running battle with the other two brainiacs in their little kru, “what?” she asked them both, “you can say no.”

“Are you kidding me? I was a space-station engineer,” Wick replied at last, “worked with artificial gravity and all that? Give me a day, I can do it.”

“You got until the morning.” Octavia spoke up, she had enough of this posturing and stepped in, “Monty?”

“Yeah.” He said at last, having finally stopped his study of the controls in front of him, “it’s not hacking or anything. Don’t have to reverse engineer it, just operate as is.  Just need to get a feel for it.”

Raven looked up at Octavia, “there you go. Three of four.” She thought a second before saying, “maybe, one day, Sinclair could work the fourth?”

“You’re planning on keeping these?” Octavia asked.

Raven grunted, “of course I am.” She studied Octavia, “why not?  You can't just give a bird wings and then take them back away."

“Guess no reason.” Octavia replied. She got out of the helicopter then, Monty followed her to the ground. Then Wick, who helped Raven down. Wick shoved his hands into his pockets. It was clear both he and Monty wanted out of this conversation that was quickly escalating. Wick kissed Raven on the forehead, “I’m going to go and help Harper figure out how to get the hangar bay doors opened.”

“Sure, sure..” Raven said, rolling her eyes at him. He turned and left.

Monty spoke up, “I’m going to go get your paint.”

Raven smiled at him, and he left too. Octavia watched him go. Then she looked at Raven, “we’re are we going to keep them?”

“Right here.” Raven stated as though this was a matter of fact. She stared at Octavia, “seriously, we have four operational helicopters. You can’t just use them once and throw them out?”

“Do you know the kind of power these are?” Octavia asked, pointing at them.

“Yeah, that’s exactly my point, O.” Raven answered. She turned then, and, somewhat slowly, slid under the helicopter they were standing by. Raven called out to her, ‘its not just me. If we let them go, Octavia, and someone else finds them who can fly them…?” Raven let the question sink in.

Octavia grunted, “that’s not fair.” Having no clue what Raven was doing under the helicopter, except for pulling and tugging at things that for now were apparently hanging loose, she went over and crouched beside it, “what the hell are you doing under there?”

“I’m just saying,” Raven began, “that all other awesome reasons aside, we should keep these. If nothing else, we will know where they are at and know that their guns aren’t aimed at us.”

“Wait, they have guns?” Octavia felt a little sick then. Guns. In the air… they could raze anything. She wiped at her face.

“M60D Machine Guns,” Raven replied, she motioned a hand a little bit to point out somewhere above them both, “up there.”

Octavia looked up. She froze at the sight of said machine gun attached to the helicopter. _Oh shit, how had she not noticed that?_

“We haven’t found the ammo for them yet.” Raven grunted, as though she’d noticed Octavia’s shock, “but we are looking for it.”

Octavia still said nothing.

“O?”

“Raven?”

“That’s why we should keep them.” Raven turned her head enough to look at her. Her voice was solemn as Octavia could ever hear it being, “if the wrong people got ahold of these things…” she began, “granted, they’d have to know how to fly them but if we can, somewhere out there maybe there is someone else who can…”

“No.” Octavia decided suddenly, she looked back at Raven, “we’re blowing them up when we’re done.”

Raven gaped, “shit, O!   _These_ are our one advantage--”

“Here’s your paint..” Monty was back and setting buckets of a nasty whitish goop beside them. He also dropped a pile of old rags. They both turned to look at him. Octavia couldn’t help but pull away from the hideous smell, “what ..is that?”

“Seriously?” Monty asked with a grin, “You don’t want to know.”

“I had him make something to paint this up with,” Raven answered, she slid out from under the Blackhawk and dunked one of the rags into the bucket before sliding back under it again and looking up at the expanse of smooth metal, “hey?” she asked as she did, “so you guys were both in Skybox so you should know…”

“Know what?” Octavia asked hesitantly.

Raven asked, “What the hell was Clarke’s i.d. number?”

\--==--

“We should burn them.” Clarke said, it wasn’t the Skaikru way. But she wasn’t going to put her people into a mass grave. She and Lincoln stood alone at the edge of the massacre from that morning. The trees felt tight around Clarke as she stood there staring. She –they- didn’t even know who did this. What was worse, she knew, they probably never would.

“It would attract too much attention.” Lincoln replied.

She looked at him; “I won’t put them in a mass grave, Lincoln.”

“Then we bury them separately,” he agreed, looking back at her for a second he moved forward first, “but we need to hurry and get it done.”

Lexa had insisted she stay. But Clarke would not. These were her people. She pulled her hair back into a tight braid and kept her hood over her head in preference of not being bathed in ash again. They would be fast, she’d promised. Clarke started into the scene of the massacre after Lincoln.

They dug fast as they could into the icy ground in silence. Her body was stronger now. She knew that, months ago, when she first came to the ground that if she had to try and dig fifteen graves one after the other into the frozen ground she never could have done it in the short time they had. Fifteen graves for fifteen different people.

“In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.” She said these words at the side of each grave as they replaced the dirt. She was stricken by this, she felt numb as the words left her lips. They finished the last grave and she said it again, “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.”

Lincoln stood back when she finished and looked around at all the graves, “yu gonplei ste odon.”

The addition both surprised and comforted her with the reverence with which he spoke them. Because she could tell he meant them. She could tell he knew these were more than just random people even if she herself barely knew them. She turned to him, “thank you.”

He nodded. He then looked at the evening light starting to spread gold across the sky. He picked up his shovel, “we should go back.”

Knowing Lincoln wasn’t about to leave or even start off before she did. Clarke picked up her shovel as well, took a last look at the graves, and started back the way they had came.

Lincoln was just a step behind her in the trees. After about a minute of silence though he caught up to her side, “do you know about Costia?” the question was humble and non-aggressive.

The question made her stumble and flat out stop. He did too. She turned on him to see only quiet concern in his eyes, which was why he brought this up. This was not a question meant to be assuming or rude. It was a question that wasn’t meant to be out of line, somehow. This was asked out of concern, and it was a topic that –while extremely personal- was also not a secret to anyone. This was a topic, she realized, that as one of her closest friends Lincoln had every right to bring up. Because that’s what friends did, among the many things that friends did, was bring up stuff with each other that was often difficult if not all together uncomfortable to talk about. Because someone had to, and that’s what friends were for, to be that someone who could get away with it while knowing it won’t change a thing in the friendship. So, after thinking through her initial shock, Clarke turned slowly and kept walking. He followed in tense silence. She answered at last, “yes.”

“I’m glad you do.” He said back, “just..” he said to her as he walked, glancing at her, “be careful.” He looked at her and she looked back at him and she saw only support in his face.

She nodded, “of course.” His concern was touching.

"It's been a long time, for Heda." He said slowly, as though he wasn't sure that he should.  Finally he just said what he was trying to say, "she is stronger when she has someone there."  He smiled at her, "I am happy for you both."

"We're all stronger when we have someone, Lincoln." Clarke smiled at him and she could see the proud shine in his eyes because she knew he was thinking of Octavia.  Clarke asked, "how long has it been since you've seen her?"

"Since Indra first had suspicions they were going to send Heda to the tree."  He admitted.  He looked over at Clarke, "if our plan is going as it should, she's saved your people Clarke."

"Camp Jaha?" Clarke asked.  A twist went through her stomach at the thought of the danger they could have been in and she was so thankful her friends were on these things when she should have been.  He nodded.  She said, "thank you."  He nodded again.  She said, "its amazing that the two of you can work in tandem even being so long and so far apart."

"We're soulmates." he replied, as though that should be reason enough.

Clarke felt herself smile because for a second his firm beliefs in all of this reminded her so much of Lexa.  Grounders were romantics after all. She never would have thought that when she first came to the ground.  At last she nodded, "thanks for your support of Lexa and I." she said to him.  He nodded.  She added, "and not just with our relationship."

He nodded again, then looked the direction of the complex.  She shrugged and did too. He started off and she followed.  Speeding their pace fractionally to make u for lost time he changed the subject, “I saw what you did to the walls.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked. He was an artist as well. Clarke sped up as well to keep up.

He looked over at her, “are you kidding?” he asked, probably a phrase he got from Octavia. Lincoln grunted and kept going, “its perfect.”


	43. gon yu laik ain (Because You Are Mine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE 1:** THIS CHAPTER HAS DESCRIPTIVE F/F SEXUAL CONTENT
> 
> The sex in this chapter is a little more detailed/dirtier (but not extremely so) than it was in Chapter 28 (because it is not their first time together like it was in that chapter). 
> 
> If you do not want to read this sort of content, please turn back now. Only click to read this chapter if you chose to read these things and understand they are part of this work. The rest of the story should be able to stand on its own without this chapter should you choose to skip it.
> 
> Also I have left the rating on this fic as ‘M’ because the sexual interaction in this chapter does not use adult wording, and is similar in content with other ‘M’ rated fics I have seen posted here. I have not meant to offend anyone by including it.
> 
> Please guys, be nice. Sex is difficult to write for me and even more difficult to publish to a public website. ^_^
> 
>    
>  **NOTE 2:** Some Trigedasleng in this chapter. Below are the (rough) translations of.
> 
> gon yu laik ain - because you are mine  
> gon ai laik yun - because I am yours  
> ai laik yun - I am yours  
> laik yu ain - are you mine  
> chit - what  
> yu laik - you are  
> ai seintaim - me too  
> ai hod yu in - I love you
> 
> \--==--

Clarke woke to the silken scrape of a tongue over her left nipple. Still half asleep she pushed up into the warm mouth, “…Leksa.”

“I'm sorry.” Lexa whispered. She stopped and tried to back away and Clarke suddenly wanted to scream in protest, instead she tangled her hands in Lexa's beautiful hair that was spilling over her bare body to keep her from lifting her head. Lexa was all about respecting Clarke's personal space, “why do you do that?” Clarke asked quietly, instead of screaming. She wanted to understand.

“Kiss you?”

“No,” Clarke couldn't help the small laugh at the innocent question back. She answered, “pull away from me sometimes?”

“You have rejected me twice now, Clarke.” Lexa answered, against her chest, as though it was just matter of fact. The words, _that could do something to a girl_ , went through Clarke's head even if they were not actually said. Clarke groaned. No, no, no. She thought. She stroked her fingers through Lexa's hair, “Leksa?”

“Hmmm?”

“We're together, yes?”

“Yes, Clarke.”

Clarke formed the whisper -the permission- she sensed Lexa needed to get past this, “you can do what you want. I won't reject you.” she'd tell her this again if she had to. If it came to another night that Lexa pulled away from touching her she'd tell her again and again for as long as it took.

The air in the golden candlelight of the room was still for nearly a minute after that. Then Lexa shifted just a little bit to center herself better on Clarke and started again, sucking more flesh into her mouth. One of her hands moved to cup that breast closer. Her other hand caressed Clarke’s other breast. Combined, the wet mouth and the touches did crazy things to Clarke. Especially when she looked down and watched Lexa sucking at her so beautifully, as though it was the only place she found sustenance. Clarke traced her hands up and down her back, “what brought this on?” she asked at last.

Lexa’s mouth released her for only long as it took to speak right against Clarke’s skin, “you looked so beautiful, laying here.” The warm lips closed on her again and Lexa’s tongue slipped wetly around and around her nipple. Clarke really stifled a groan that still rattled through her ribs as she inhaled deeply and continued to slide both her hands up and down the warmth of Lexa’s back, “but I woke up?”

“Mmmm.” Lexa hummed confirmation against her breast; the vibrations were teasing and made Clarke suddenly feel needy for so much more, for Lexa’s skin to be bare on hers that was right now encased in her black silky wrap.  _Oh God,_  Clarke realized what Lexa had walked in on and understood better what she had said a second ago. She had washed up for the second time that day and had meant to change for bed but she had been so tired after returning from the woods. She’d sat down for only a second and had fallen asleep  _without_ clothes. Apparently she had slept like the dead as well because a glance outside told her it was nighttime now and apparently Lexa had chosen not to wake her until now, “you should have woke me.” She glanced down at Lexa, who was very contentedly sucking on her, kissing and stroking her breasts.

“You needed to sleep.” Lexa replied between mouthfuls of nipple and breast.

“Leksa…” for some reason that was so damn sexy, Clarke started squirming under the feel of the warm mouth sucking and licking at her flesh, the teasing brush of Lexa’s long hair gliding down over her skin to encase them both was making her loose all her ability to think. She tugged at Lexa’s wrap weakly, “…Goddess?” Her voice was more breathy than she wanted it to be. That made Lexa stop, Clarke’s nipple still in her mouth, open green eyes, and look up at her.

The sight, very nearly, made her want to break apart for Lexa right then and there. But she focused instead on those quiet green eyes. Lexa started sucking again, still watching her with those eyes she sucked a little harder then pulling more of Clarke’s breast into her mouth. This resulted in liquid nearly exploding between Clarke’s thighs. She groaned and flopped back to the pillows. She felt Lexa’s smile against her skin and had to swallow hard. Lexa knew  _exactly_  what she was doing to her; “…Leksa…” for some reason, her girlfriend’s name seemed the only word in her dictionary just now…

“Yes, Klark?” Lexa let go of the nipple and started dropping warm, lazy kisses in the valley between Clarke’s breasts as she caressed them both with callused hands that felt more beautiful for them. The sensation was intoxicating. Clarke truly forgot what she was going to say. Probably begging, that was probably what it was. Lexa crawled up her, put her hands to each side of her face and started a warm, slow kiss by brushing their lips together once and separating them just a fraction before turning her head a fraction and kissing her again with a little more determination. Clarke was drowning in these kisses like she always did, returning them to Lexa’s soft lips. She shifted during this kiss; just enough to slowly slide her thigh between Lexa’s. A small gasp fell from her mouth onto Clarke’s. Lexa's kisses more urgent, “beja?” she whispered between brushes of her teeth and lip. Clarke gave in fast, and felt her body melt when their tongue’s met. She worked a hand into Lexa’s curls and braids to keep their heads together. She also realized suddenly, with a slight shift of her leg between Lexa’s, that she wasn’t the only one that was needy right now.

Lexa had soaked through her light wrap.

Evidence of this was warm and smeared onto Clarke’s thigh.

_Fuck…_

All of Clarke’s own cravings suddenly went out the window. She got her arms around Lexa and flipped them both so Lexa was under her on their bed, “Klark?” She looked up at her, her voice said she had not expected this but her eyes told Clarke she wanted more.

“Shhh…” Clarke knew she was probably the only one who could get away with shushing her, which she had to admit, felt good in a way that was not so much selfish but reminded her of how much they shared. It felt even better when Lexa actually listened and lay back under her. Eyes searched hers. Clarke leaned in to kiss her mouth, loving how it opened to her but she didn’t take that invitation, no, not yet. Instead she dropped another slow kiss on Lexa’s lips before she put a fraction of space between them to open Lexa’s wrap. She wasn’t wearing the belt. Lexa couldn’t tie it. Which made it so easy for Clarke to slide her hand inside to touch the warm skin from Lexa’s flat stomach all the way to her shoulders, “lets get this off?” Clarke whispered about the wrap. Lexa offered her a quiet, eyes-closed nod and lifted her shoulders enough for Clarke to pull the wrap loose from her body. She dropped it over the side of their bed. Laying back down on top of her she put enough space between their skin to run her fingertip back down Lexa’s body watching every inch she traveled make uneven breaths escape Lexa’s lips, making each inch of skin twitch just a little to her touch, making Clarke wrap her other arm protectively around Lexa’s back before she stopped that fingertip right at the top of damp brown curls. Lexa’s eyes opened and looked into hers, burning. Clarke kissed her more firmly. She skipped right past those curls to trace her fingertip down through the wetness on Lexa’s inner thigh and back again. Lexa flushed and tightened her eyes closed again. Clarke lowered her head against Lexa’s ear and ran her finger down her inner thigh and up through the wetness again, “this is beautiful.”

She felt Lexa gulp in air under her, “Klark…”

Clarke smiled. She lifted her hand and braced up off Lexa just enough to trail her wet fingertips up the flat of Lexa’s stomach to circle them around the base of Lexa’s breasts, first one and then the other, causing Lexa to quiver so slightly under her and causing her legs to bend so fractionally at the knees and shift a little apart. Clarke felt her insides liquefy and glanced down along their bodies at the sweet response. But she didn’t take that invitation yet, either. Not yet. She told herself. She turned her head back and buried her face deep in Lexa’s chest before sucking a dusky amber colored nipple between her lips. Hands moved instantly to the back of her head, “Klark!” Lexa groaned now, as though that was now the only word she knew like Clarke had been struggling with words just a moment before. Clarke smiled hearing the torn sound of her name and the press of Lexa’s hands trying to get her closer, “shhh…” she blew on wet skin, “we’re not alone here anymore.” She started lapping the flat of her tongue against the bead of Lexa’s nipple.

“I locked the door, Klark.” Lexa replied, heaving her chest achingly up into Clarke’s mouth.

Clarke sucked the invasive breast a second before letting it go, “have plans?”

“chit? nau.” Lexa gasped in confusion. She groaned, “I just thought ..if we fell asleep without clothes on and had to be woken up for some reason I didn’t want someone to see you.”

Clarke let go of that breast and licked the other nipple, “why?”

“gon yu laik ain,” Lexa ground out, “…gon, gon yu laik ain..”

“gon ai laik yun?” Clarke asked softly. She knew she should protest that she belonged to no one. But for some reason the possessiveness spilling from Lexa did things in Clarke’s lower belly.

“sha! gon yu laik ain.”

“sha,” Clarke consented, because she wanted to be. She licked the nipple she was currently tormenting one more time, “ai laik yun.” She heard Lexa’s sigh of relief at these words. Clarke picked up her head a last and crawled up the few inches necessary and brushed her mouth over Lexa’s soft and gaspy lips. She wanted something else too, “Leksa?” she asked for it quietly not sure how Lexa would respond. Clarke kissed her again, “laik yu ain?” she saw eyes fly open, the Commander never very far. Clarke smiled to assure her, “not Heda. But is Leksa?”

Lexa’s answer was first noticeable in the fine tremble through her body, then in the fine sheen of sweat suddenly on her forehead, then in the clench of her jaw as the words came to her throat, and then, finally, in a very soft nod.

Clarke’s insides soared. Her heart started thrumming so loudly she thought it would burst through her ribs. Still, she kissed at Lexa’s lips, barely touching them again and again with hers, barely skating her tongue over them as they opened for her each time, “say it,” Clarke whispered against those searching lips, “please say it Leksa…” she needed to hear it.

“ai laik yun,” the words were a whisper, but they were there against Clarke’s lips. Lexa’s arms tightened and her eyes opened to look up into Clarke’s, “ai laik yun.”

Clarke kissed her for the beautiful words, allowing their tongues to touch and meet up. She groaned quietly though around Lexa’s which was slowly working in and out of her mouth as though trying to mate with hers. She returned one hand to crawl up and down Lexa’s thigh. Clarke pulled out of the kiss gently as she could, kissing her once and then twice more before settling herself firmly at Lexa’s side, using the arm under her to turn her to face her, she pulled her close until they were skin to skin and face to face. Clarke’s hand was still tracking its dangerous pathway, “know what I found out?” she searched Lexa’s green eyes. Clarke glanced down their bodies and picked Lexa’s top leg up and draped it over her own. The move alone made Lexa groan and try to pull herself closer to Clarke by wrapping her arms around her neck, “chit?” she asked, causing their breasts to come together. Clarke found herself swallowing at the contact, not sure she could handle much more. But she had to. This was Lexa. She started tracing her fingers up and down inside of Lexa’s thigh again, first down one side and then up the other, softly, again and again. Clarke touched their forehead together and smiled, “that you are starved for touch.”

Lexa dropped a kiss on her lips, “starved?”

“yu laik,” Clarke said, she started smoothing Lexa’s thighs with her palm again, “when it comes to touch, Leksa, you’re skin and bones.” Lexa’s body was practically begging her now, wound up so tight that her Goddess had her head thrown back and Clarke could nip and suck at that delicate gold throat if Lexa was not Heda, and they had liberties to do such. Clarke licked at it instead and it made Lexa look back at her again. She touched their lips together and stopped her hand finally at the top of Lexa’s spread thighs, “because I’ve only done this,” she slid one finger deep into Lexa, enjoying the catch of breath from Lexa’s mouth onto hers and the small spill of liquid over that finger as she did, enjoying the way arms tightened instantly at her neck. Clarke opened another finger up and started sliding it in and out with the first as she kissed Lexa’s soft lips against hers again, “I’ve never even touched you here,” she slid the pad of her thumb across Lexa’s clit. Lexa convulsed around her and literally started a cry that Clarke quickly covered with her own mouth as she continued to slide her thumb around and around and back and forth over that little hot spot of Lexa’s body and slid her fingers in and out of warm, wet silk. Clarke whispered as she separated their mouths just a fraction, “and you broke open so beautifully in my arms anyway.”

Lexa flushed so slightly hearing these words. The color looked gorgeous to Clarke. She kissed Lexa's forehead, "Its okay. I mean, I loved it."

Lexa groaned her name, “Klark…” Clarke kissed her forehead gently and worked her fingers in a little deeper and faster. Lexa was grinding her teeth together hard to keep from crying out. To keep from screaming. Clarke wanted these screams but she also wasn’t going to make Lexa uncomfortable with them. So she settled on kissing her, kissing and kissing her lips and opening her mouth right as those cries began. Clarke swallowed them down, “I got you Leksa..” she said between covering her girlfriend’s cries. She was close. God Lexa was sweating, shifting her hips into Clarke and scrambling at her with hands that couldn’t grip. So Clarke held her tighter and sealed their mouths together again when Lexa took a deep, desperate gulp of air in--

The candle went out, plunging the room into blackness. Lexa’s shouts of pleasure were muted by Clarke’s mouth as her release spilled and spilled warmly around Clarke’s fingers and over her hand. In the dark Clarke could feel Lexa’s whole body was consumed with shaking. In the dark Clarke slowed her fingers and held her more tightly and slowly, when her cries stopped, released her mouth so they could both breathe. Lexa heaved in air. So did Clarke. Lexa collapsed finally limply. Clarke gently retracted her fingers and circled her arms around Lexa. She leaned in and pressed her lips gently to Lexa’s warm ones, “well, you are never going to be starved anymore.” She whispered.

Clarke felt the little chuckle vibrate though Lexa before it left her throat, “I think not,” she admitted. Green eyes opened and sparkled at her in the dark. They shifted around a little as though taking this fact in before she looked at Clarke again, “it’s dark.”

“Candle went out.” Clarke smirked under her breath as she moved to trail her fingertips down Lexa’s face, “right when you did.” She pulled Lexa tight to her again and buried her face in her hair. They would be fine without it.

But Lexa started to extract herself, “I’ll get it.”

Clarke stopped her, “no, I got it.” She said, stilling Lexa and pulling her back down to their bed. For whatever reason, Lexa wanted the candle lit and Clarke’s first immature and probably insanely inaccurate thought was that maybe the mighty Commander was afraid of the dark. She bit back a smile amused by the thought and slid off the bed realizing as she made her way through the dark trying not to bump into anything like the bedposts or the foot of the dresser as she arrived there that the reality was probably that Lexa just wanted to be able to see where they were going. It took Clarke a second to find the candle, and a moment or two longer to light it up again. As the golden light flickered into the room though she turned around and—

\--found herself pushed against the wall. Lexa was instantly at her throat, licking at it and then sucking hard at the skin of her shoulder. _Goddamn she forgets how fast and quietly she can move…_ Clarke whimpered as her girlfriend’s hands slowly circled her waist and slid up her back, “..Leksa..” but Clarke felt her insides already tightened into that pleasant throb at this attack and her legs instantly went to jelly. She was glad suddenly for the wall at her back. Because just as suddenly as it happened she wasn’t sure she could bear her own weight.

"You said," Lexa reflected so softly, enjoying the taste of Clarke's skin in her mouth, "I can do what I want."

Clarke's breath was already gaspy, "yes, I did.."

"Well, I don't like when people interrupt me, Klark," she warned, also softly, not even close to a threat. She was so delicious. So was the weak tremble she felt coursing through Clarke's body where she held it tight.  

“You…” Clarke’s fingernails dug into her waist as though for support. There was a smirk in her voice, “y ..you sure seemed like you liked it.”

“Yes, I did.” Lexa admitted, releasing Clarke’s skin. She didn’t let Clarke go, not completely, just enough. Just enough to look into her glowing blue eyes. She started pressing kiss after kiss onto Clarke’s oh so warm lips that she loved to kiss, "but I wasn't finished yet." She separated their mouths just to breathe before angling her head in to take another taste of those lips. She slid her hands up into Clarke’s hair.

“Leksa…” Clarke was shaking now. Lexa enjoyed that immensely while still trying to catch every breath that left the blonde’s lips with hers. She knew she could kiss her forever if given such a sweet fate. Not separating their mouths that she always longed for just yet she slid her hands down Clarke’s soft skin to settle for a second at her waist before splaying them over Clarke’s hips. Lexa broke the kiss just to look into her face. But the blue eyes were twisted closed with pleasure. She smiled, brushed her lips against Clarke’s sweet mouth once more, inhaled a shared breath with her to steady herself and finally, sank to one knee in front of her.

Clarke felt the change of proximity. Lexa watched her eyes open, it took a second before they found where she was. She saw the catch of Clarke’s breath. She felt the racing beat of her own heart as she brought her other knee down to the floor--

Clarke’s hand settled on her hair, “Leksa, you don’t have to…”

No, she didn’t. But she wanted to. Instead of telling her so Lexa thought she would show her. She slid her hands down to the sides of Clarke’s thighs and slowly started to nuzzle her face against the silky flat of her belly. She opened her mouth and let her tongue slide over Clarke’s skin, relishing the taste of soft warm skin. Lexa glanced up as she did this. Blue eyes on fire were staring down at her. Still looking at Clarke’s eyes Lexa slid her hands both to the insides of Clarke’s thighs and gently pushed at them asking without words for her to spread them for her.

With a groan, Clarke did so, and Lexa wasted no time. She lowered to sit on her knees between Clarke’s opened legs, attached her lips quickly to wet folds and started to lick and lap at them. The sweet taste of Clarke filled her mouth instantly and she swallowed. Clarke groaned above her. Lexa felt two hands tighten painfully in her hair. Clarke’s legs were shaking and she quickly wrapped both her arms around her thighs to hold her in place as she started to suck. Clarke stumbled onto her, “Leksa…” she pulled herself up.

“Yes, Klark?” She teased her tongue at Clarke’s wet opening.

“Oh God, Leksa…”

“You’re beautiful, Klark,” Lexa assured her. She pulled her mouth away just a fraction, unlocked one of her arms from around Clarke’s leg and slid a finger up into her. Clarke might have collapsed if Lexa hadn’t been holding her; instead her back fell against the wall. Her hands tightened impossibly more in Lexa’s hair but suddenly released it as though she knew she was pulling too hard, “Leksa….”

Lexa added another finger and slid it in and out with the first, “sha…” she breathed, “say my name, Klark--”

“Leksa….”

“Again.” Lexa held Clarke tighter and started to curl her fingers the way she liked.

“Aleksandria…”

Lexa hadn’t been expecting that. The sound of her name leaving Clarke now made her weak instantly so did the orgasm spilling over her hand running suddenly down to her elbow and down Clarke’s trembling legs. Lexa’s own breath was short but she moved forward and gently licked the sweet liquid from the insides of Clarke’s thighs, slowing her fingers just a little as she flicked her tongue a couple more times over Clarke’s trembling clit. Lexa extracted her fingers gently, moving her up to tighten at Clarke’s waist she pushed to her feet again, resisting her very nature to suck her fingers into her mouth. Like their first time, it was terribly difficult for her to resist. But she wasn’t sure how Clarke would react. So Lexa tried to put the thought aside, “are you okay?” she asked under her breath as Clarke’s face settled into her neck.

“Leksa…” Clarke’s voice was incredibly dry. She felt Clarke’s fingers twine around her wet ones and looked down. Clarke pushed back from her just enough to bring her fingers up to her lips, “you don’t have to hide anything from me, Leksa.”

Lexa felt her heart stutter just a little. Because Clarke understood. Slowly, she pulled her fingers, still entwined with Clarke’s into her mouth one at a time and sucked on them. Her fingers tasted like Clarke, Clarke’s fingers tasted like herself as they slid gently around the tip of her tongue. Together it made a mix she could easily drown in. Clarke’s eyes were misty as they watched her. She wanted to share this. Lexa stopped sucking and took their fingers from her mouth, keeping her hand twisted into Clarke’s slowly lifted them to Clarke’s lips, stared into her eyes and gave her a quiet reassuring nod.

Clarke swallowed so quietly it almost didn’t seem she had, as if considering it which made Lexa realize this was new to her which made a small thrum of both anticipation and happiness burn through her heart. Especially when Clarke’s mouth opened and her tongue skated over their combined fingers like wet velvet. Clarke paused for only a fraction of a second as she registered the sweet mix of their taste, and then she moaned so quietly Lexa almost didn’t hear her as she licked at their fingers again. Lexa let her continue this as long as she wanted, “that’s us.” She said to Clarke. Clarke finally stepped back from her. Lexa stepped forward, slid her hands into Clarke’s hair and kissed her mouth. Clarke’s lips were warm as they returned her kisses to her. Finally their lips parted. Clarke’s face fell into her neck, “Leksa?”

“Klark?” Lexa tucked her face into Clarke’s neck as well. Lexa’s heart was beating. It was beating oh so fast…

Clarke shifted and brought their foreheads together, “I want to cherish all of this.” Her blue eyes burned into Lexa’s and Lexa knew what she meant. She meant she wanted to take time to cherish everything, each moment, each look, each touch, each kiss, everything. Lexa wanted those things too. She just pulled Clarke closer to her and exhaled into her hair the same words she had said earlier that day, “ai seintaim, Klark.” For a moment she thought Clarke was going to say something else as her grip tightened again. But the words went unspoken from them both, which was all right, because they both already knew. Lexa almost whispered them. _ai hod yu in._ They were right at the tip of her tongue. Finally she felt Clarke exhale against her. Lexa pulled back just enough to see her face and cut the tension, “lets go to bed?”

Clarke nodded against her and moved away first, pulling herself from Lexa’s grip she went to the bed and pulled the top two layers off fur off completely before turning the next one back and climbing up into her place. Lexa crossed the room and climbed in beside her, and as Clarke lay down Lexa did as well, lowering herself down onto Clarke’s body so she could hear the beat of her heart. Clarke pulled the covers up over them and then, under the furs, her fingers started to trace lazily at Lexa’s back. It was soft and soothing and Lexa felt her eyes getting heavy. She also felt Clarke’s touches starting to slow as she drifted into sleep. Lexa buried her face into the hallow of Clarke’s throat, “goodnight, my Beautiful One.” She whispered. Her eyes stubbornly warmed with liquid suddenly because _this_ was what she wanted, only this…

And though the tears were not shed simply because they were trained never to fall it was as though Clarke knew about them anyway, because her arms tightened softly around Lexa and equally softly Clarke whispered back, "goodnight, my Goddess.”

Sleep came for Clarke just a few minutes later. Lexa closed her eyes and followed Clarke into dreams.

Even if only in stolen little moments like this one, only in moments they managed to capture between them; was it quiet –outside of their normal storm-- calm at last.


	44. Conundrum

Lexa flung their covers back and was out of bed within seconds. It took Clarke a second to realize this and she did because suddenly she was missing the warmth of Lexa beside her. She sat up, “Lexa?” she asked tiredly. It was just after dawn. Light was turning the sky but the air was still frozen cold. But Lexa, still naked, had pulled open the door and strode outside as though none of these facts mattered.

“Lexa?!” Clarke was fully awake, seeing that. She grabbed a fur from the bed and took off after her. Lexa was standing at the rail looking to the north and east. Not even seeming to be bothered by the cold, simply staring with that hard impassive look she wore a lot when in command and displeased. It made Clarke stop by the door a second, “Lexa?” she asked.

Then, finally awake enough, she heard what Lexa must have heard seconds ago that sent her flying from their bed. Horns called in the distance, rolling like distant thunder through the trees. Clarke swallowed thickly. She could only guess what it meant, “Lexa?” she said again, she went to where her girlfriend was standing naked at the rail, “come back inside.”

“They found someone they think is Heda, Clarke.” she said, without turning.

“That's what I thought...” Clarke walked over to her, she wrapped the fur she had around herself around Lexa as well, but Lexa didn't seem to care and her skin, against Clarke's, was like ice. Clarke held the fur closed with one hand and wrapped her other around Lexa's waist, “come on. We will figure it out, okay? But you got to come in. You're going to freeze out here.”

Lexa gave a terribly stiff and almost imperceptible nod but allowed Clarke to turn her and get her inside and to sit at the edge of the bed. Clarke went back and slid the glass door shut to keep it from allowing in more cold. Right as she did that she heard a knock on the door that led into their room.

Lexa, to Clarke's surprise, turned her shoulder, “what is it, Lincoln?”

His voice called from the other side, “the horns, Heda.”

“I heard them.” she relied, “we will be down soon.”

“Sha, Heda.” Lincoln said, and they both heard him move away from the door and down the hall. Clarke knew he was being loud enough for them to hear him leave, because grounders were practically without sound. But he was also giving them space without saying so. Clarke saw Lexa inhale deeply, their eyes met and Lexa's were filled with a veiled uncertainty, “how are we going to do this?” she asked.

“I don't know.” Clarke moved quickly. She opened the dresser and pulled out a pair of black leather pants and a extremely soft, fitted black sweater that was made of a knit so fine it hugged her body as she started pulling clothes on. Clarke dressed quickly as she could, knowing Lexa was watching her but not with anything other than needing her to hurry right now. Clarke pulled on socks and her boots. She moved forward, gathering up Lexa's clothes where she had left them -neatly- when she must have slid out of them the day before, “but we will come up with something.”

“How?” Lexa asked, standing up so Clarke could pull her underwear onto her body, then her socks, and pants and shirt. Clarke worked quickly and efficiently and soon Lexa sat back down, “I can't even dress myself. I am too weak.”

“You got that on yourself,” she glanced at the black robe that still lay on the floor from the night before.

“You just slide into that. There's no buckles or snaps.”

“Well, its a start, yes?” Clarke grabbed Lexa's boots and put them on her, and started to adjust the buckles up the length of her calf.

“Clarke?” Lexa's asked, the tone just telling enough to let Clarke know she was dead serious. Clarke looked up. Lexa studied her eyes a minute, “speak true to me. I'm not a child. My hands aren't getting any better than they are now, are they?”

Clarke knew the anger was not directed at her, but at the situation. She could see the last shards of hope starting to crack in Lexa's green eyes, and she didn't want to be the one to take those fragments away. So she just looked down again, adjusted the last buckle and looked up at Lexa, “probably not on their own.” she said at last.

“I see.” Lexa's expression fell just like her voice did, her chin dipped but only for a second, only for a second before her stalwart resolve was back in place as she looked up at Clarke again and her voice was that quiet whisper she used when faced with hard decisions and consequences that rattled her more than anyone else thought they could, “If can't even get my own clothes on, how can I fight with a sword? And if I can't fight how am I supposed to save my people?” Lexa stared at her in blunt, truthful honesty.

Clarke stared back at her, watching her watch herself for an answer. Watching her as though challenging her to please come up with anything she hadn't thought of yet. Clarke didn't turn her gaze away either. She did look down long enough to adjust the last buckle and push up to her feet, “you don't fight with a sword,” she answered. She stepped in, cupped her hands under Lexa's jaw and tipped her face up to look into her eyes, “you fight with this.” Clarke dropped a lingering kiss onto Lexa's forehead. She felt Lexa's flinch of surprise. Clarke stepped back but didn't let go of her face. There was trepidation in the room, because this topic was so so familiar to both of them, and Clarke didn't really want to go there but right now, she saw no other way. So she slid the pads of her thumbs over the soft skin of Lexa's cheekbones to try and take away a bit of the anxiety they both felt as she looked deep into Lexa's eyes, “we both know, your best battles have always been fought with it, and not your sword.”

“Klark-” Lexa seemed so hesitant, so almost, hurt, that this was coming up right now.

“Listen to me.” Clarke said, she moved in and pulled Lexa tight against her so she didn't have to see that look on her face, “listen, okay. I'm _not_ just talking about the Mountain, Lexa. You are so insanely smart.”

Lexa's breath stilled suddenly. She nodded against Clarke's neck.  It was the only confirmation that she had even heard.

Clarke pulled back from her but kept her hands around her upper arms, “but that night you did save your people, Lexa,” she pointed out, “without ever drawing a sword.”

Lexa looked at her then as the fight returned to her eyes, “then we do it again.”

Clarke gave her a quiet nod. _But you better not leave me this time._ She didn't have to say the words. She didn't have to say them and she knew Lexa still heard them. They were in the air between them both. Before Lexa could say anything else to that effect or to any Clarke took both of Lexa's hands in her own; elegant hands that were a harmony of so many things, of softest skin and scars, of life and death, of the duality both, being gentle and strong and knowing far far too many ways to kill. They were the hands that held her, and loved her, the hands that she loved back. Clarke squeezed them gently and looked into Lexa's eyes, “besides, there might be a way.” But oh God, this way was going to hurt, and not so much physically so. It very well could hurt them _both_.

Lexa's eyes shifted just a little trying to understand this, “but you just said--”

“I said, they would probably not heal on their own.” Clarke reached up and tucked a loose brown length of curl behind Lexa's ear, “I also said before that we would try everything we could, remember?”

“Sha,” Lexa glanced down at their joined hands before looking up at her again, “go on.”

“We're going to need two things.” Clarke answered, searching Lexa's eyes because she felt the own overly active racing beat of her heart because she knew where this was going and she knew that Lexa wasn't going to like it any more than she did, if for different reasons than her own reasons were. Clarke said, “the first is actually a person, my mother.” Which meant two more things would happen as well as a result from that, the first being they were going to have to let someone in on the fact that she was still alive before they were ready to. The second being that needing her mother also meant they were going to have to use Skaikru medicine, and Clarke wasn't sure how Lexa felt about that. Clarke watched though as all of these thoughts were dissected as they raced through Lexa's mind.

Finally though Lexa nodded, “okay.” she said, “and the second?”

The words were too difficult to even think. In fact, they tightened in her throat as though to keep her from saying them. But they spilled fast out of Clarke anyway because there was no holding them back now, “we're going to need the Mountain.”


	45. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several paths meet up...... (can't write much more of a summary or it will spoil everything)
> 
> \--==--

The silence was like a blanket covering the lower room of the house. Lexa was pacing. Lincoln was standing quietly near the kitchen door. Clarke stayed mostly standing in the center of the room. Even when she had tried to sit down, the nerves flooding the room kept making her get up again, kept making her stand again, kept making her wish they could do this differently, again.

A few hours had passed now. She knew they were quietly waiting for Indra's arrival. They all knew it would happen just like they knew it was, for the moment, now all that they could do. But for the past few minutes now no one had said a word. Maybe they didn't know what to say, maybe each of them was waiting for someone else to speak first, as though they were all thinking the same things and at the same time wondering what was on each others minds. It was a contradictory thought. But this was contradictory, not to mention likely explosive, situation that Clarke was starting to realise more and more no matter what they did – they could not stop.

The fall out could and would be war and death – _of course_ it would. That made Clarke swallow tightly because when she dreamed of Earth, she never dreamed of death. Earth had been a happy place, a fresh, free start for everyone-

“Everyone will have heard it by now, Heda.” Lincoln finally spoke up.

“I know,” Lexa stopped her slow pacing and turned to look at him, “and they will be celebrating,” she added. It was a statement of fact and Clarke could feel the detachment in the way she said it. Lexa turned away and started pacing again, “maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“Our advantage to what?” Clarke asked. She was unsure yet if Lexa actually had an idea forming. Because she didn't. Every thought that entered her mind so far did not end well for anyone. She'd even toyed with the idea of suggesting Lexa let whomever they'd decided was Heda to keep the throne, and they flee the territory. But she knew that Lexa would never go for that. She knew the suggestion would hurt her so badly and cause them to loose any ground they had made together. Clarke knew it was just a fanciful idea as well. A wish that they could just escape this, say fuck it, and be happy somewhere together at last, without being leaders, without leading people to wars, without having to make choices that hurt each other or made them end up on opposite sides of a battleground like they had been before.

“To get into Polis.” Lexa stopped and turned to Clarke now, “someone is on my throne.” there was a certain danger to her throne that was far from possessive and more full of fear of the damage that could come from that fact.

Clarke watched Lexa's eyes move over her face as if trying to see if she understood. So Clarke nodded to assure her, “I know, Lexa,” she said, “do you have any idea who they might have called?”

“I suspect a Latent, because the only Nightblood I know of would be Aden, and while he is very close to being so he is just not ready for this yet.” Lexa exhaled softly and added “if it was Aden though, our course would be much less difficult.”

“Why is that?” Clarke asked. By Lexa's tone of voice it sounded Aden could well be an ally for them.

“Because he is one of my students. He would simply...” she walked to the couch and sank down into it mid thought, “let us in, pardon us, put it all back the way it was. Many believed he would succeed me one day. Myself included.”

“So maybe its him?” Clarke suggested hopefully.

That made Lexa's mouth twitch into a small, sad smile, “Indra would never allow it.”

Lincoln shifted from one foot to the other, drawing both of their attention, “with all due respect, Heda,” he said, “she has allowed someone.”

“Yes, she has.” Lexa agreed, “though I wouldn't know why or who. So we wait. Because she will come here. Today.”

“We wait.” Clarke agreed. She knew Lexa had asked Indra to return this morning. But they all didn't know if she would be able to get out of the city or not.

Lexa's face shifted a little bit as though she had changed her train of thought. She asked in a somewhat annoyed tone, “and what is that noise?”

“Noise?” Clarke asked. She heard nothing.

Lincoln asked though, “you hear it too, Heda?”

Clarke glared at both of them, “I swear you guys and your hearing--” she broke off suddenly as a faint repetitive sound like paper being caught against the blades of a fan met her ears. She looked at them both again, “that sound?” she asked. They nodded. She grunted, “how do you hear these things so soon?”

“When you've been on the ground a while longer you will too, Clarke.” Lexa answered. Clarke felt her jaw set a little just to keep from rolling her eyes. But she knew they were probably right, they listened to the Earth somehow. Its probably how they stayed alive or something second nature like that. Clarke took a step toward the door though as the sound got closer, “sounds like its coming from outside.”

Lexa got up quickly. She glanced across at Lincoln whom moved past Clarke to reach the door first. He opened and went outside. Lexa followed him out. Clarke was right behind her. The noise grew louder as she stepped outside. But Lexa and Lincoln both stood frozen in the middle of the walkway staring up at the sky. She stopped abruptly just short of colliding into them. But they didn't seem to notice. Lexa's voice was a dangerous whisper, “what is that?” she asked, her hand dropping automatically to the empty place where her sword should be.

Clarke looked up.

A speck of black was circling in the blue sky, around and around. From where she stood it seemed maybe the size of her thumbnail. Its actions were too precise to be a bird or some other animal. Dread, like a swarm of parasites, started crawling up the inside of her body. Clarke stepped forward to Lexa's other side unable to take her eyes off the object as well she answered, “I don't know.”

\--==--

Raven, was flying. A bird with wings.

Octavia however hadn't expected quite this much noise, which said something, considering she had spent most of her life closer to the sounds of machinery even than any of the others had when they had all lived with machine noise their whole life.

They had helmets on to talk to each other up here in spite of the noise. Currently Octavia's was pressing into her braids. Probably it would cause a headache, that or the noise or both. Up in the cockpit though Raven kept up the slow circle. Monty had taken the seat beside her. Octavia hung out between the two of them, her arms over the back of each of their seats. She had to admit, there was some sort of adrenaline about it, about flying. So free. So high in the air with the ground spreading out below them like multicolored pieces of a puzzle. After a few seconds Raven's voice crackled over the radio in her helmet, “you sure they are down there, O?”

“This is where he would have moved them to.” Octavia answered back, it felt like she was yelling above the noise of the helicopter blades she could barely hear herself as she looked at the landscape of trees that gave way to crumbling foundations and streets that sprawled through them like a giant cancer. Octavia added, “where exactly down there, I don't know.”

“You've never been to this hiding spot?” Raven called back, Octavia caught her glance and realised that she was being teased. She grunted, “no.”

Raven snorted and glanced over at Monty, “okay, gradual decent, same rotation, until we are close enough that they can see us.”

“Oh, I am sure they've _seen_ us.” Octavia was definite on that, “probably freaking out right about now. Clarke maybe ready to shoot us. Heda determined she can strike us down with her sword. Lincoln...” she cut off that thought, because she couldn't help the small smile instead the idea of Lincoln trying to to decide what to do from here. He could have no idea it was her up here in the air. She added on a second thought, “pretty sure none of them has seen a helicopter before.” She hadn't herself after all until the day before.

“Fine,” Raven corrected, glancing at Monty again, “we have to fly lower then until _we_ can see _them_.”

\--==--

It seemed to Indra the horses couldn't move fast enough. Even as they tore through trees right and left. Even if they had been doing so since early that morning. Even if they foamed at the mouth. Even if she barely was able to control her breathing like her mentors and Heda Shail had so many times taught her to. This was not a normal thing, and so there could be no normal way to breathe.

She, and the three riders with her, had slipped out of Polis when the celebrating began, the first chance she had to retrieve them from their rooms they had been placed in, the first chance she had when no one was looking. She looked back at the three, all skilled and determined. She knew they were almost to where they were going. It was just ahead. Indra finally started to slow her horse a little at a time so it didn't give out from going suddenly from a run to a walk. Finally she stopped it and turned the animal around and turned to face them.

They were pulling to a stop. Indra waited for them all to look up at her and then lifted her chin, “if even one of you dares defy me or leaves after seeing what you are about to see, or dares repeat anything you shall soon see to anyone,” she walked her horse back and forth in front of theirs, “I will personally slit all of your throats.” She stopped her horse and asked, “am I clear?”

“Yes Indra.” Leona answered.

“Yes Indra.” Allegany replied.

Echo only lifted her chin, “Sha.”

\--==--

“It's a vehicle.” Lexa decided, watching the object in the sky. She reached and slowly tried to push Clarke behind her. But Clarke glared at her just a little and stayed where she was. Probably Lexa was right. Probably this was some sort of vehicle. She couldn't tell what yet but she thought it might be getting lower.

“Heda?”

“Lincoln?”

“Strongly suggest you go back inside.” He said, “with Clarke.”

Lexa glared at him, “and what do you expect you will do, Lincoln?” she demanded with her slight commander-growl lacing her voice. She motioned upward, “tear it from the sky yourself?”

“Wait-” Clarke stopped them both. She felt Lexa turn a near glare on her and Lincoln look at her in surprise but she didn't care just now. The object was definitely dropping to a lower altitude as it kept up its slow circle. Now that it was lower she could finally make out details of what it actually was though, “its a helicopter. People used to fly in them back before the bombs.” The helicopter moved to a lower altitude still.

“A vehicle, yes, Clarke,” Lexa repeated, “but what we need to know is who? Mountain Men that survived? Some new enemy? Ally? Technological fiend? People we don't know from the other side of the sea or beyond the reach of my territory? It could be anyone.”

That was the moment the helicopter soared directly over them. Clarke could barely hear for the noise from its blades. She didn't hardly notice it though because what she had noticed where the numbers painted onto the bottom, “three-ninteen..” she said. She felt her eyes open just a little wider as the numbers played at the back of her head as she watched helicopter's flight away from them. Then the numbers sank in, “three one nine. Three one nine. Lexa!” she grabbed at her arm making Lexa look at her sharply. Clarke grinned ear to ear and nodded to where the black helicopter was starting a return rotation toward them against the blue sky, “now _that_ ...is Skaikru.”

“Skaikru?” Lexa looked at the helicopter again. Clarke tugged at her. Lexa protested, “Clarke!”

“Its probably Raven, which means Octavia told her or Raven couldn't be here, which means,” she glanced at Lincoln when she saw him catch Octavia's name, “that we can trust them. Come on!” she pulled Lexa out into the middle of the street by her arm. Clarke started waving her hands in the air to get their attention. She noticed Lincoln doing the same behind her.

\--==--

Octavia was holding her breath as she scanned out the dash window the rows and rows of old houses and cracked, over-grown streets and strewn turned over cars. They had come close enough to the ground that if they flew any closer she might feel like she was falling out of the sky again. _Where are you babe?_ She whispered in her head. Around her the air in the helicopter, though insanely windy, in tone was very quiet.

“Think we got the wrong place, O?” Raven asked over the radio carefully. She saw Raven glance at her out of the corner of her eye and then turn her attention back to the historic but shiny helicopter controls, “I mean, we've done so many laps. Maybe we should try somewhere else?”

“No, they're here.” Octavia shouted back over the noise of the blades. She had to admit though watching the grown below she had no idea how many passes they'd made by now.

Raven demanded then, “how do you know this is it?”

“Because,” Octavia snapped back, “its an old housing development west of where they were!”

“There could be dozens of old developments out here, O!” Raven turned the flight controls just a little left and glanced over at her at the same time as though seeing if anything she was saying, “are you sure?”

“I don't know, I've never found it by air!” Octavia protested, “besides I said never even been here!”

“Guys!” Monty broke into their yelling match, drawing her attention and Raven's too. His face held a look that said he was irritated with their arguing but excited at the same time. He pointed down out the window, “there!”

Raven looked, “shit, it's them. It's really them.”

Octavia crawled forward so she could see better through the dash. She felt her heart leap into her chest when she did because below in the center of the cancerous-like crumbling development was Lincoln. Lincoln waving his arms up and down in the air with a smile on his face and right next to him was Clarke doing much the same thing. And there was Heda looking unmoving as ever. Octavia exhaled in relief. She felt a grin wider than she believed possible spread over her face. She looked at Raven, “I told you.”

Raven just rolled her eyes at her, “okay,” she said in response as she turned a little and came to a hover over the area where they were, “let's set this bird down.” she started, very carefully, to lower the helicopter down.

\--==--

They've seen us.” Clarke lowered her arms as the helicopter turned and came to a hover over them in the street. The wind from its engines was tearing up everything, ripping at her hair. The noise was indescribable as it tore through her ears. She put her hands over them. She saw Lexa doing the same and squinting at her from time to time with astonished eyes. Clarke bit back a smile though and watched as the helicopter settled noisily onto the cracked road in front of them. Then the engines were switched off with a whine and the whirl of the blades gradually slowed.

Everything came to a standstill, standing there on that old broken road. Even now, 97 years later, it was as if the deserted development knew it was strange to have a helicopter land there.

Slowly, Clarke took her hands away from her ears. She saw Lexa do the same. She saw Lexa's eyes slide warily from the helicopter to her...

A door squealed open then and was thrown wide. Clarke knew she was gaping as boots hit the dust and Raven came around the side of that door, pulling a helmet from her head as she did that she tossed back into the aircraft, “hey Griffin!” she shouted, in a not unfriendly way. She looked around them, “what the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

“Raven..” Clarke whispered, but it was a whisper that made a smile spread over her face. Then she was running. She felt her feet working on their own until she had thrown her arms around the other girl, for a second not knowing, or remembering, even if they had parted on bad terms or not. She felt Raven's arms come around her, if somewhat uncertainly. Others were getting out of the helicopter. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Octavia drop to the ground, throw off a helmet and dash into Lincoln's arms. He caught her instantly and Clarke looked away from their reunion kiss. She let go of Raven, she saw Monty was also there, as was Miller and Wick and Harper. Monty hugged her like only he could. She hugged him back, unable to breathe, but not because he was crushing her, but because they were actually all here. Clarke stepped back at last, “where's Jasper?” she asked, looking around again. He had to be here, "Bellamy?"

But Monty's face fell, “they didn't come.”

Clarke's heart sank a little because she had a good idea why Jasper hadn't, “oh.” But Bellamy?

Lexa walked up to her side. Clarke saw her friends look at her. She watched Lexa's eyes drift across each of them. She wanted to grab Lexa's hand but she wasn't sure how she would feel about that so Clarke cut into the stare-down quickly, “hey, guys um-”

“We know not to talk.” Raven said abruptly. Her eyes settled on Lexa, “and we know she's supposed to be dead.”

Lexa lifted her chin slightly and stepped forward one step, “what else do you know, Raven?”

“Lexa,” Clarke tried, taking her by the arm she pulled her back a step. Lexa turned to her. Clarke glanced at Raven and then stared into Lexa's eyes, “she's not a threat.”

“I'm not threatening,” Lexa answered, looking at Raven again, “I am just asking what she knows. We can use that, Clarke.”

Clarke inhaled and rubbed her forehead a little. This was going to be--

“Heda!” Indra. Clarke reconized the shout. She saw Lexa whirl. She whirled too. Indra was working her way running at a steady clip toward them with ...three warriors running with her, glaring at the helicopter as though it would kill Lexa. Lexa glanced quickly at Clarke and then took off toward Indra. Clarke did as well.

“Calm down, Indra!” Lexa shouted just before they met in the middle of the street where she and Indra and the three with Indra stopped running and suddenly squared off facing each other. Clarke stopped running too. She saw that the three warriors were girls, not much older than herself or Lexa. She also noticed, out of the corner of her eye, her friends ran defiantly up to one side of her while Lincoln and Octavia braced at Lexa's other side. There was a little tension in the air that reminded Clarke more than she wanted it to of that moment on a particular forsaken battleground. Indra glared at the helicopter, “what is this?” she demanded at last.

“Friends.” Clarke answered. She hoped she was right about this because she didn't have time to even ask why any of them were there yet but Octavia had to bring them for something, “people who can help.”

“Why are you on foot, Indra?” Lexa asked, staring her up and down for a second before looking at Indra's face again for an explanation, “we're you attacked? There was an attack near here only yesterday. Did you loose your horses?”

“Our horses threw us and fled because of that!” Indra motioned to the helicopter.

Lexa just grunted and eyed the three girls, “and who are these three?” she asked Indra first. Then she looked over the three girls, “what are your names?”

They were all three staring at Lexa as though they'd seen a ghost, and Clarke could understand that. Because they probably believed they did.

“Well?” Lexa asked.

“L ...Leona kom Trikru, Heda.” the first answered. She glanced over at Indra before looking at Lexa again. Lexa just nodded and moved to the next two, “and you?”

“Echo.” the next said, but this one didn't even flinch. Lexa nodded and studied Echo a few seconds longer than she had Leona before saying, “Azgeda.”

“Sha, Heda.” Echo replied.

Lexa moved to the last of the girls and only turned her head to keep from repeating her question.

“Allegany, Heda, of Luna's Clan.” Allegany swallowed though and looked Lexa over. Lifting her chin she added, “forgive me, but you are supposed to be dead.”

Clarke saw Lexa's throat tighten. She also saw how tense her friends were beside her. She saw how on edge Indra was, glaring at her and shifting that gaze protectively to Lexa. She also knew that _no one_ here, herself and Lexa included, had any real idea what was going on. Lexa dropped her posture a little at last, “alot of people think that--”

“-but it's not true, is it?” this voice, was from no where. This voice, Clarke had never heard. This voice made Indra whirl around. It made Lexa look up, “Linden?” she asked. Clarke looked up as well. The speaker was a man in heavy leather gear, straps and buckles, looking like nothing had been washed in months. He wore a hood. He was also flanked by six similarly dressed warriors. Clarke glanced from him, to Lexa, who stood on edge beside her. Because Lexa had also noticed Indra. Indra who's eyes were hard set, who's jaw was tight, and who's sword was suddenly, with a fine hiss of steel, drawn.

Lexa took a step forward, “what is this?” she asked.

Indra didn't look back at her but her voice was a low whisper, “he isn't supposed to be here, Heda.” besides Indra, the three girls drew their swords as well. Clarke looked over as she heard steel hiss to her side and saw that both Octavia and Lincoln had drawn their swords as well.

“I see.” Lexa answered. She inhaled deeply, “Clarke.”

“Lexa?”

“These are Sheidgeda. Get your people back to that aircraft.”

“Kill them all.” Linden said. His eyes scanned over Lexa and smiled sourly in his hood, “including Lexa.” The sheidgeda drew swords.

“Go!” Clarke shouted at Raven and the others. They balked. They set their feet. Octavia whirled on them, “you guys can't fight yet, dammit, _don't_ make me have to save you or watch you die. There are guns in the helicopter. Get them! Go!” She pulled her second sword out.

They listened to Octavia, and none too soon.

The seven sheidgeda surged forward, steel met steel, crashing together in the middle, the three girls each bracing their swords against steel of stronger men, slipping out from under to kick them in the back. Clarke had never seen Indra fight and faster than she could blink the general whirled her sword in a deadly sweep through the air and slashed one's neck very nearly, but not quite from his head. They came at Lexa, Lexa kicked them back. They came at Clarke, Clarke ducked and as she jumped up and back out of the reach of a sword she turned and in mid turn Octavia had placed a knife in her hand. Clarke surged forward slamming the blade deep into a sheidgeda warrior's chest. She didn't have time to take the knife back before she felt her legs taken out from under her and rolled and shot up and back from the edge of sword. Blood spilled on her and she looked in time to see that Octavia had taken the assailant out. In slow motion she noticed Lincoln was drawing a blade across another sheidgeda's throat. In slow motion she noticed the three girls slashes of steel seemed almost in unison as they backed an assailant and Echo tore a knife through his neck. It seemed almost in slow motion as she saw Lexa at last on the far side of the fray, kicking back the one called Linden with ferocity locked in the set of her jaw and the glint of anger in her green eyes. Linden came at her again and Lexa ducked the blade. In slow motion she noticed Indra leaping to reach Lexa but Indra's leg was caught by a sword through her guard spilling her to the ground. Clarke felt her feet start carrying her to where Lexa spun and kicked Linden back again. Clarke saw the moment he realised Lexa could not fight him. It seemed like slow motion, watching him kick Lexa's legs out from under her, watching him plant a boot into her chest to keep her on the ground and swing his sword high into the air..

She was going to loose her, Clarke realised. She tried to run. She tried as fast as she could to clear the space between them to get to her but she was not going to make it in time. Shoving fast as she could past Indra, Licoln and Octavia who were turning as she did Clarke opened her mouth to shout, “Leksa!”

Everything seemed to still for Clarke, like someone had hit pause, everything, including the droplets of blood seemed to freeze in the air as Linden's sword seem to come increasingly slowly in freeze frames down toward Lexa's throat...

A shot rang through the development.

As though someone had finally hit 'play' a bright blossom of red burst out of Linden's chest as his body was thrown forcefully back by the impact of a bullet. The body landed limply on the broken pavement while Lexa pushed herself to sit up.

Clarke landed on her knees next to her, “Leksa?” she asked, kissing her forehead and smoothing back her hair, “Leksa...?” Clarke knew she was crying, she didn't care.

“I'm okay, Klark, I'm okay,” Lexa soothed, brushing back the spilling tears. Clarke nodded. She blinked to stop crying. She felt the silence of everyone else staring at their backs. She helped Lexa up. She turned to find out who had fired the gun...

Bellamy strode out into the street from the side of a house, just barely lowering a pistol in his hand. Smoke still spilled from the barrel. He stopped where he was when their eyes met and let the gun drop to the pavement.

“Bellamy!” Clarke gasped. She couldn't breathe. She ran toward him. That was all she knew to do. She ran toward him and threw her arms around him and leaned tight into his neck. Clarke sobbed a few times right there and sobbed a little more when she finally felt his arms close. Swallowing fast, after several seconds she at last stepped back, “thank you.” she whispered. Over his shoulder she saw Jasper appear at the edge of a building. He kept his distance, but he was there.

Bellamy shrugged at her quietly and glanced over to where Lexa was watching them both. Then he looked back at Clarke, “that's what friends are for.”

“I--” Clarke began. But she was shoved aside.

“Bell!” Octavia threw herself in her brother's arms. She hugged him tight. She kissed his forehead and hugged him again, “you came through!”

“Of course I did.” he whispered hoarsely, hugging her back almost gingerly before tightening his arms around her. He said something similar to what he had said to Clarke, “that's what big brother's do.”

“Damn right it is.” Raven said, getting out of the helicopter with the others again. Clarke turned away to give the brother and sister a minute even if Raven wouldn't. But she turned right into Lexa behind her. Lexa looked down, so did Clarke, to see her quietly offered hand. Clarke slipped her fingers into it. Indra though at last came up to where they were standing, “what is all this about, Heda?” Indra skimmed her eyes over absolutely _everyone_ and _everything_ happening there. Wondering most likely how this -reunion- came to be all at the same time on the same day in the middle of no where.

“So much, I am certain.” Lexa answered, turning to the others who had fallen into hugging and talking and looking over the helicopter. She looked back at her general, “we do not even know the all of it yet.”


	46. Trying Not to Break and What is Already Broken - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters might come out shorter than even my usual. (this one is really short) I don't want to include filler to make them longer. I hope though, I can put a few up a time since they are shorter. Have a great day everyone.
> 
> \--DistantStar
> 
> \--==--

“Jasper?” Clarke asked. He sat with his back to everything, on the low wall surrounding what was left of a house across the street. She approached him carefully, “Jasper?”

He didn't even look at her, “go away, Clarke.”

The tone of his voice hurt more than the words did. She stilled where she was just a foot or two from him, “I am sorry about Maya.”

“I hate you.” he answered.

She felt her throat lock thickly because she could tell by his tone that he meant every word. It stung worse than the tone of his voice had. She wanted to say she was sorry, again, maybe it would make a difference if she said it twice. But she knew it wouldn't. She knew she wanted forgiveness from him. But how could she expect that when she couldn't even quite forgive herself? So instead she swallowed everything she was feeling deep down into her stomach and asked, “then why are you here?”

“Because when people need me, I don't walk away.”

She knew it was another barb meant to hurt her, and it did. Third time was a charm right? And it was evident he didn't want her around him, “okay, listen. You might not want anything to do with me right now. I get that. But you have to come inside.”

“Why?”

“You saw what happened here today,” Clarke answered, “and right now we don't know if that's the last of them.”

Jasper finally turned, “you don't know anything, Clarke.”

“Yeah, I don't,” she admitted, “I don't. But that doesn't mean I don't try. Now,” she said, glancing back toward their house which was suddenly rather full, “inside. Or I will send someone to bring you. Don't stoop as low as that Jasper, because I will do it.”

He got up abruptly, and brushed past her hard, shouldering her and making sure to glare at her as he did. Clarke turned and watched him until he vanished through the door of their house. She gave it a few seconds, she could still feel the anger dripping off of him. It hurt. She knew it would. It was one of the reasons she had left, so she didn't have to look at them. Steadying herself Clarke walked back across the street to their house. Allegany and Leona were posted one to each side of the front door. Lexa had moved fast in that respect. They stared straight ahead and said nothing as Clarke pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Jasper wasn't anywhere in sight, and right now maybe that was a good thing. Raven and Monty, Harper, Miller and an engineer she hardly knew named Wick were all sprawled out in various stages of relaxation and idle chatter on the couch and in front of the fire. Raven caught sight of her first, “hey!” she called across the room, “Jasper went upstairs somewhere.”

“Thanks,” Clarke replied, they got a little quiet then and so did she. The sound of fire crackling in the hearth seemed louder than it should seem in the room, “and thank you guys, for coming here. I can't begin to say what it means. Especially after I left.” But it had been so long with so many things left unsaid between them, so much history without words, that after the excitement from earlier wore off she felt just a little detached right now.   And what Jasper had just said to her, about  _said_  just leaving and about hating her, still hurt.

“Hey yeah, we got you.” Raven answered. Clarke felt herself nod.  Of this, she wished it was something she could be sure of.  But she didn't bring it up. Instead she looked around them and changed the subject, “where is Octavia and Lincoln.”

“Hunting,” Harper supplied, speaking up.

Raven smirked a little, “in the forest.”

“Right.” Clarke replied, glancing toward the door. She looked back at them.

“Hey, come sit with us a while?” Raven asked moving over on the couch for her.

“I.....” Clarke bit her lip. She sighed and gave them a sad smile, “I can't.”

“Lexa?” Raven asked.

Clarke nodded, “yes. I mean, there's an awful lot going on right now. I'm sorry.” She was sincere. She hoped they took this better than Jasper.

Raven said nothing. Monty finally smiled at her, “go on.” he said, “face the inquisition. Guessing it will be our turn up there soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Clarke answered, “we're ..going to have to talk to all of you. Guys,” She said then, looking at them. Looking at Raven in particular, “thank you.” she tried to put as much sincerity in her voice as she could.

“Go on,” Raven cracked a smile, “get upstairs then.”

Clarke smiled back, turned to the stairs, and went up them fast.

Echo, to her surprise and not to her surprise, was posted outside their bedroom door. Bellamy was seated on the floor of the hallway across from her and the way they froze up soon as she topped the stairs made her realise the two had been talking. Bellamy stood, “Clarke?” He looked across the hall to Echo, "this is, we..."

“It's fine, Bellamy.” she said, “go back to what you were doing.” she pushed through their closed bedroom door.

“--What do you mean, Indra, that he is Skaikru?” Lexa was pacing, demanding as she did, on the other side. Both Lexa and Indra saw the door open and turned to it. Clarke froze where she was as they recognized it was just her. Lexa started pacing again, “they haven't been on the ground long enough.”

Clarke pushed the door closed carefully. She stayed where she was.

“I understand, Heda, but I saw it for myself.” Indra answered from where she was near the glass door, “he is Skaikru. He passed the tests.”

“But you know they are wrong.” Lexa insisted, turning to her general. She paused. She tucked her chin a little. She continued to pace.

“I know, Heda.” Indra replied more gently than perhaps Clarke had ever heard her speak. She stepped forward, “I know something about this is wrong.” Only just now as Lexa drifted toward it did Clarke see the assortment of her actual armor she wore as Heda scattered across their bed, down to the paldron, red drape of cloth and coat. Lexa turned to Indra, “what do you suspect?”

Indra studied her leader. Indra's eyes also drifted to Clarke. Lexa saw it too and looked Clarke's way. She came to where Clarke was and addressed Indra again, “you can say anything in front of Clarke. Do not make me ask again.”

“Heda,” Indra started at last. Clarke saw the flutter of her eyes that said she was uncomfortable with this, the telling it in front of her or the telling it in general Clarke couldn't begin to know. Indra squared her shoulders, “I think he's a Shard.”

Dead silence dropped on the room like rocks. Clarke might never had seen Lexa turn so suddenly still, so suddenly cold, her mask so firmly in place even without the paint. Lexa's lips twitched a little as she seemed to gather her voice, “a Shard?”

“Sha.” Indra spoke the word very low.

“Who?” Clarke asked, stepping forward at last until she stood at Lexa's side. But Lexa was still staring at Indra, “Lexa?” Clarke asked.

“The person sitting on my throne.” Lexa turned her gaze to her at last and Clarke was stunned by the dangerous, and fearful, anger in her eyes.  Lexa looked back at Indra and said, "John Murphy," Lexa lifted her chin a little, "of the Skaikru."

 

 


	47. osir hodnes yu heda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR SOME OF YOU THIS NOTE MIGHT CONTAIN SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN 03.07 BE WARNED.
> 
>  
> 
> Hi my friends,
> 
> Please forgive me if I am not on my game with this story today. To be honest I don't expect I am. I think you will all understand why. But I wanted to get something up, today especially, to give the girls a safe place where they both get to be happy and be alive in the end. 
> 
> On that note, no matter how much it hurts to do so, I will keep writing this story. I started it after Season 2 but before Season 3 began. From the start, it deviates from the direction Season 3 goes. I hope -even though sometimes I don't feel like it stands up to alot of the fics on here, or sometimes I feel like its boring you guys- that it might help ease the ache we are all feeling. Maybe at least one idea of the way season three might have gone instead. Finishing it is something I am going to have to do.
> 
> And no, the title of this Chapter has absolutely nothing to do with the content of the Chapter at all. But it has all to do, with Lexa (and us? *sad smile*)
> 
> Soon, I will find a way to word this on the front page of this work. Right now fixing words to what should be said now in the opening summary of this work, seem unable to come.....
> 
> With Love to you all,  
> Debrah (DistantStar)
> 
> \--==--
> 
> “I thought I would never get over the pain….”  
> -Lexa, the 100
> 
> Me either, Lexa. Me either. Reshop Heda.  
> osir hodnes yu heda (We Love You Commander)
> 
> \--==--

“Murphy?” Clarke asked in shock, “John Murphy?” she stepped further into the room and looked at Lexa and Indra both, “that is impossible. His blood is red.”

“It isn't.” Indra argued flatly in the tone that said to her, this really wasn't an argument, “I made the cut into him. I saw it. He has the commander's blood.”

“He has red blood.” Clarke insisted, “I've seen it myself. I've seen it enough times to know. He is the one that crippled Raven. He tried to hang Bellamy and killed two others. He stood there and let Finn massacre that village! He cannot be chosen as Heda.”

“You've killed people too.” Indra replied.

She whirled on Inda, “my deaths had a point, to save people. It doesn't free me of them, or make it any better or me any less guilty. But the deaths he caused,” she shook her head in anger, “we're just to kill people.”

“Control your anger, Clarke.” Lexa cut in quickly, “we can't make the choices we will be needing to make, in anger.” Clarke looked over at her and stared for just a second in disbelief. Lexa seemed calm. But her eyes were enraged. Clarke swallowed tightly and nodded, “fine.” she said. She cleared her throat, “so, what is a Shard?” she folded her arms across her chest as though it would keep her from raging.

“It is a fragment of a soul once bound to the Commander's.” Indra answered flatly.

“That is what we suspect,” Lexa clarified, “we have never actually encountered but it is believed that sometimes if a commander dies with its spirit in too much turmoil there are chances that pieces of the spirit bound with the commanders can -possibly- break away.”

“Break away?” Clarke asked, watching her she knew that if the Commander's Spirit was real as Lexa believed it to be, it was in turmoil, now, “like, what, the other soul is ripped into pieces?”

“No, that is death for the soul. The soul will carry on with the Commander. But the pieces that break away are the memories, the emotions. All the things we are not supposed to have as a commander and this is why.” she turned away and started rubbing her forehead.

“Lexa...” Clarke said carefully. When she got no response she moved into the room and turned Lexa to face her, “hey?” Lexa's large eyes looked up into her own then. And not caring that Indra was in the room avidly studying them Clarke pulled Lexa close. Lexa was stiff in her arms for a minute before embracing her in return and then Clarke asked, “so what happens next? How does this get into someone like Murphy?”

“The memories, the pieces, they continue the cycle on. But since the Shard was created in turmoil it will always exist in turmoil and moves from life to life also in turmoil with no control. It is suspected the turmoil is so consuming that when the body dies the Shard will just jump into the next closest viable being still alive. It does not have thought.” she shook her head against the side of Clarke's neck and pulled back at last, “not until it jumps into someone again.”

“And that's what you think happened? That it jumped into Murphy?” Clarke asked.

“Sha.” Lexa whispered. She looked over at Indra, “Indra says, that Murphy was not the original host to this Shard. There was another boy, from the Wasgroun, that was not Wasgroun at all but actually Azgeda. Okan. She learned this from Echo.” Lexa glanced toward the door and then back at Clarke, “Murphy must have killed him. The Shard moved into Murphy.”

“And since it was once bound to the Commander's Spirit,” Indra continued with a nod at Lexa in implication, “it often carries the commander's knowledge and memories.”

“And you believe this is how John passed the tests?” Clarke asked. She watched Lexa nod. It hit her a little harder, that confirmation. It hit her a little harder for many reasons, because she understood why Lexa would be upset. Because she knew that John had come down with her on the drop-ship. And because of that there was just no way he could have known enough to help him pass what she was sure had to be insurmountable amounts of information on these tests. “Okay,” she said at last, “so now what do we do?”

“I'll need to go back to Polis.” Lexa answered, “if they see they are following a false leader they will have to make a choice. Follow us, or stand against us.”

“You will use it as a door.” Clarke realised.

Lexa looked at her, “I will use it to try and save what I can of my people. They deserve to know their Heda is alive and I am not going to stand for this.” She went toward their bed then and looked down at her armor, “Clarke,” she asked, “help me.”

Clarke came quickly. She picked up Lexa's coat from the bed and put it around her body. She picked up the corset-like belt next. Lexa held her arms out to her sides as Clarke pulled it around her waist and started to close up the buckles.

Indra spoke behind her, “you can't use your hands.” the words were a quiet realization that made Clarke cringe as she closed the last buckle, “that is why earlier you could not fight.”

“No I cannot, but that isn't common knowledge either, and it stays that way, Indra.” Lexa answered, “understand?”

“Sha, Heda.” Indra answered, but there was hesitation in her voice. Clarke found the shoulder piece and got it in place. She latched the buckle. Lexa asked, “what is it, Indra, tell me the truth?”

“If your hands are damaged then you can't fight.”

Lexa just smiled, “according to some,” she answered. Clarke stepped back then and slipped the 'cute' skeleton gloves without the fingers over Lexa's hands. She looked over at Indra as she did, daring her, daring her to counter that. But Indra said nothing. So Lexa added, “regardless, there is an option I am considering. There is a chance they can be fixed. Either way, I've not decided yet.”

Tugging Lexa's hair out from under her coat to fall free down her back Clarke stepped away, “you're done, Lexa.”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa said to her, “but not quite. Could you bring my war paint kit, please? And water?”

“Sure.” Clarke replied. She went to get the wooden box, and also poured water into a cup from a jug they had placed there. Clarke brought it back. Lexa sat on the side of the bed. To Clarke this seemed suddenly too familiar as she opened the box up, then looked up at Lexa, “what do I do? All of it?” She'd seen the war paint pattern enough to know what it should look like.

“Not yet. Not until we go into Polis.” She nodded at the contents of the box, “mix just a bit of the white powder with a few drops of the water. Use it to apply the Mark.” Lexa looked at the small golden circle that looked like a gear.

“Right..” Clarke replied. She mixed the water and powder together and carefully, carefully, picked up the little gold elbum and gently put it into place between the sweep of Lexa's eyebrows, “what I don't get, Lexa,” she said as she did, “is how this thing never falls off.” Clarke sat back.

“Oh, it does.” Lexa admitted, “sometimes at the worst moments. I have several.”

Clarke laughed a bit, but her heart was bursting seeing Lexa like this again. Complete. Inside and out. She closed the box.

“So Indra,” Lexa said standing up again, speaking to her general whom had fallen silent, and whom had known to fall silent, for the moment, “the actions leading us here are all important. And so I will start at the beginning of it all. Why did you tell Clarke about the Blood Tree?” she looked over at Clarke and then back at Indra, “you did it knowing she would come for me when we were on the brink of war. The coalition breaking apart. And you thought this a good time to arrange my kidnapping? Why?”

Indra straightened her back, “for that exact reason. Because a new Heda would never have the experience to face the break up of the Coalition, or stand against the tide in it's wake. I did so because you are our people's hope. You built it, not the Heda that would have been as a result of the Jus Tri. They need you, Lexa. So I had Octavia find Klark kom Skaikru,” she glanced over at Clarke before returning her gaze to Lexa, “who as Wanheda had a right to take you, because you betrayed her first.”

“That was a risk.” Lexa said, studying Indra back.

“Yes,” Indra agreed, “but it was one I was willing to take.”

Lexa relaxed a little more then, unlocked the hardness from her eyes, “Clarke said much the same.” she admitted, she looked over at her before adding, “I wanted to debate it, but every time I got my head around it I knew that she and you,” she looked over at Indra, “were right. But that was just one reason I promised to not just give myself up.”

“Heda?” Indra requested she she further that. And for a second Clarke wasn't sure if she was going to. But finally Lexa changed the subject, even if just a little, “you say Octavia had a part in this?”

Indra answered, “yes.”

“We need to talk to her.” Lexa decided.

“Oh,” Clarke began drawing the attention of them both, “she was out hunting. I guess there isn't enough food here to feed all 14 of us. I will find out if she is back.”

“No, you should stay. I will send Echo.” Lexa went to the door, opened it and stepped out into the hall for just a second. Clarke tried hard not to notice the burn she felt on her skin from Indra's eyes. It was starting to irritate her. What did Indra expect her to do? Not help Lexa every way she could? Not let her friends land here when she needed each of them, especially when Indra had brought people into this of her own?

Lexa must have noticed it and she must have known them both well enough to know what it meant because when she turned back into the room she announced, “it is time for people to know. I am done hiding here.”

Indra agreed with a respectful nod.

Clarke felt her insides get a little fearful, but she knew that Lexa was right. There was no stopping this and continuing to stay and pretend it wasn't happening all around them outside this old sub-division, was helping no one, “it is.” she said.

The door opened quietly. Making Clarke look that way. Proud as ever, Octavia walked into the room. She glanced at Clarke. Then Lexa. Clarke saw Octavia's posture shift just a tiny bit when she saw Lexa finally dressed in her Commander's gear. Still, it was only for a second. Then Octavia walked to where Lexa was, “Heda.” she knelt.

“Octavia.” Lexa answered. Octavia stood up. Lexa studied her a second before saying, “I understand you had a big part in this?”

Indra strode forward then, away from the glass door, to look over her former second as she came to stand where Lexa was, “so what have you been doing all this time? That helicopter, out there? Is that what it is?”

“Sha.”

“You brought that here,” Indra asked, “yes?”

“Sha.”

“Indra.” Lexa cut her off sharply. Indra set her jaw and fell quiet but her eyes were a little more than defiant.

Lexa looked back at Octavia, “so tell me,” she asked, “just what _have_ you been doing?”

“After taking you from the tree, Heda?”

“If that is the start?”

“It was not. The start was finding Clarke, which was not easy. Setting things up to save you, planning on having to move the Saikru from Camp Jaha when word of your death rolled in. Then there was the tree.” These were blunt statements from Octavia, to the point, but respectful the same, because she was looking into the eyes of her Heda.

Clarke wasn't quite sure that if she was Lexa she could have held Octavia's gaze as fastly as she did. Lexa asked, “and then?”

“Those events followed through. After evacuating camp Jaha to Tondc I could not just sit by and do nothing. The trikru couldn't back me officially after what happened at the Mountain,” Octavia's eyes drifted briefly to Indra's before looking back at Lexa's again, “notice, I did say officially. Because this could not have happened without them either.”

“So noticed.” Lexa replied. She looked briefly at Clarke as if in understanding as she said, “and so you went to the Skaikru for help.”

Octavia nodded, “I told only the ones here with me, in fact, I only told them yesterday. The rest still believe the god-damned lie. And you should know, while I am here and telling everything. Kaia is dead.”

Lexa only lifted her chin incrementally as this was announced. Indra, however, took a step forward, “how, and how do you know this?”

“She was attacked just outside of Tondc. I found her while on the way here. She was marked by Rolkru, but the hood I found in her hands was Sheidgeda. Not to mention I've seen Azgeda running drills. If I might say so, Heda, this suggests to me that trouble runs very deep in your Clans.”

“Heda,” Indra interrupted quietly, she looked at Octavia a second longer before looking at Lexa, “there has always been trouble with the Azgeda. And now the Shiedgeda we know there is trouble with. But I think the Wasgroun are in league with them. And the Skaldakru have left.”

“You mentioned it.” Lexa replied, watching Octavia.

“I have to agree with Octavia on this.” Indra said.

“So do I.” Lexa agreed finally. After a second more or two where Clarke wasn't sure what was going to be said or whom was going to move next or even what to expect Lexa finally went on, “I have pardoned Lincoln, Octavia.”

“I know,” Octavia answered graciously, “he told me. Thank you.”

“But I also know you have small love for my actions. But you are loyal, yet. So I have to ask,” Lexa paused a second, as if not sure she wanted this answer but she asked it anyway, “why did you do all this?”

Octavia pulled herself up just a little, “because I am loyal to the Trikru, even when they are not loyal to me. Because that is what a warrior does, puts their people first. I did it because I was trying to build power enough to help when shit hits the fan. Because if we are going to succeed then the Trikru and the Skaikru must be able to have common ground, of which right now there is none.”

“To help what?” Lexa reflected back to part of Octavia's answer.

“I thought it would be obvious,” Octavia replied. Lexa raised her eyebrows and Octavia started again, “stop a war, if I can, Heda. If not, then at least made damn sure we have a fighting chance because from where I am standing right now, Commander, you have 13 people only standing with you. And that helicopter out there, it can change that.”

Lexa finally, glanced Clarke's way, they had been standing side by side and thus drawing silent support from each other. But this look caused Clarke to smile, to remind her what she said so many times, she could trust Octavia. This was okay. Lexa finally let her guard drop just a little more, enough that she wasn't cold at least, as she searched Octavia's face and asked, “you can make this helicopter work? To help us? You are sure? Could you get us into Polis with it?”

Clarke felt her breath catch, and it caused Lexa to look at her briefly before looking quietly back at Octavia whom might have actually provided Lexa with more than she possibly knew, a way into Polis, which Clarke knew Lexa had been stressing about. A way to show them their Heda still lived. But oh, Clarke didn't know if she liked it. She finally spoke up, “you'll what?” she directed this at Lexa, “fly right in?”

“Maybe,” Lexa answered her, “Octavia?”

“I can't do it,” Octavia said at last, having not missed this small exchange, and seeming to notice the significance of it without having to hear or see anything else. Lexa's face dropped back into the emotionless state it was often in around everyone. Then Octavia folded her arms and offered a very quiet, very small smile, “but Raven can.”

“I'd like to talk to her.” Lexa said then.

Clarke, bit down on her lip. She couldn't help it, and she knew that all three of them, Lexa, Octavia and Indra took notice of it. But they said nothing about it, not even when she shifted her gaze between the three of them. Clarke was about to say something but she knew that now was not the time for talking, not when Lexa was ...working? Finally, after Octavia had, in fact, taken a second to look Clarke's way she looked back at Lexa, “I could send her up?”

Lexa nodded, “if you could, please? But I would like to speak with you again on another matter, soon.” the tone implied that Octavia was dismissed, at least for the moment.

"Sha, Heda.” Octavia replied, she tucked her head just a fraction to show respect. Then she turned and left.

Clarke waited until the door closed behind her. Then she moved to Lexa's side, “Lexa, Raven... she's angry. To be honest I am not even sure why she agreed to this. Except that maybe Octavia beat it out of her.”

“Likely.” Indra put in.

“But maybe there is another reason?” Lexa asked back, searching her face a moment. She added, “and maybe we should find out?”

“We can try.” Clarke said cautiously. This, was another side of Lexa she loved. The one that looked for the best in things even if she didn't know she was doing it.

“Indra?” Lexa asked next.

“Heda?”

“You might be going somewhere tonight.” Lexa turned to look at her.

Indra, as much as Indra was able to, seemed mildly shocked, “and where is that?” she asked though.

“The Ring of Stones.” Lexa answered.

“Heda....” Indra trailed off.

Clarke saw the surprise on Indra's face. She was pretty sure it was echoed on her own, but for other reasons but she didn't get the chance to ask anything because there was a knock at the door, quieter than Clarke would have expected it. Clarke knew who it was and went to it, rather than call out toward it. She pulled it open. Sure enough, Raven, not looking hostile but also not looking too entirely amused at the request, stood on the other side. Raven said nothing just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at her. Clarke, already feeling the tension spilling off of her friend and into the air around them offered her a quiet smile, “Come on in, Rae.” she said, and pulled the door open and stepped aside.

Raven stepped inside. She settled her eyes on Lexa first. Then Clarke saw them switch to Indra, and herself as she closed the door, before looking back at Lexa, “you asked for me?”

“Yes,” Lexa answered. She looked toward the balcony, “about the helicopter.”

Raven looked toward the balcony as well and Clarke actually felt her disarm a-bit since they were venturing into territory that was Raven's know-how, “what do you want to know?” she asked, looking back at Lexa.

“First,” Lexa asked, “can it get all of us out of here?”

“It has a weight limit,” Raven replied, “of about six people, eight at a push, so, no, not all at once.”

“I see.” Lexa couldn't quite hold back the tone if dissapointment in her voice.

Raven might have, or might not have noticed it too. Clarke couldn't know for sure. But then Raven said, “but I do have three more of them.”

“Three more?” Now, Lexa almost couldn't keep the hope out of her voice. This caused Clarke to smile despite herself, and also recognize what a step it was for Lexa to be resorting to Skaikru means, whatever means were necessary, though, was not outside of Lexa's character. She did that, in fact. Alot.

“Raven?” Lexa asked then, then she started framing a thought.

“Lexa?” Raven asked back, waiting for it.

“Can your helicopters get us into Polis?”

“Your city?” Raven looked Lexa a second, finally she said, “I don't see why not. Unless you have cannons or something.”

“No, no cannons.” Lexa answered.

“Then yes, I can get you in.” Raven confirmed.

Lexa exhaled visably, a breath Clarke didn't even know she had been holding, “thank you.”

Raven seemed surprised but offered her a polite nod, “you're welcome.”

Lexa spoke up, “we might need all three.”

Clarke stepped forward, “Lexa,” she began, “you have a plan?” somehow, even if she was feeling a little nervous about it, this was starting to make her smile.

“Maybe.” Lexa said again. She looked over at Clarke and offered her a quiet smile that was reassuring then she turned back to Raven, “I know you are not bound to me by duty, or loyalty. I know we've been at odds in the past. But I need your help.”

Raven's eyebrows both shot up and she blinked at Lexa in awe, “really?” she asked, almost as if she enjoyed this entirely too much. Almost as if she was going to have a great time turning Lexa down.

Lexa could feel Raven's cold amusement. Clarke could tell. But she set her jaw and waited. Raven grunted just a little as the smile faded from her face, “I can't believe you're asking me this.”

“You don't even know what I'm asking you.”

“I know, but ...wow.”

Clarke moved forward, “we can't fly those helicopters without you.”

“Clarke.” Lexa said quietly. Clarke pressed her lips together, and took a step back. Lexa lifted her chin, “but she is right. If you help my people, it will help your people.”

“You know what?” Raven asked, “I am sick and tired of this 'yours' and 'mine' shit. Maybe O is right? There would be less fighting if everyone just realized one thing. Apocalypse or not, all of us are still human. But you know what else, I did this for Octavia, not you. I did this because Clarke's my friend.” she glanced at Clarke, “and because of that, yeah, I'll fly damn helicopters for you.” Raven calmed down a little then, wiped her hair that had fallen into her eyes back with her hand and asked, “just, just what do you need me to do?”

“Thank you.” Lexa answered sincerely, glancing Indra's way she looked back at Raven, “Indra will show you. You and Octavia both will go with her tonight. Raven,” she said, looking Raven up and down, “you will need to know where to find the Ring of Stones.”

"Heda?"

"Yes Indra?" Lexa turned to ask, almost as though she expected her to protest.

But Indra didn't, "there is one more thing." she said instead.

"And that is?"

"I've also brought your sword."


	48. graun en skai kru (Ground and Sky People)

Clarke had gone downstairs after the end of this first, of probably several, meetings. Lexa watched her leave the room with Raven to go downstairs and see to her friends. After the door closed she could feel Indra's stare on her back, “what is it, Indra?”

Indra approached it with extreme care, “are you sure, such a personal decision, is wise?”

Lexa turned around to face Indra. She glanced back at the door once and then looked at Indra again, “you're talking about Clarke.” It wasn't a question, she knew.

Indra searched her eyes in a way that made Lexa feel as though she was being searched for confirmation to the negative, confirmation that she would not stay with Clarke. At last, not finding it, Indra took a step forward, “Lexa, you know what these things can do.”

“Yes, I do.” Lexa said stiffly, “leave me now. Go and prepare for your trip, for yourself and Octavia and Raven.”

“Yes, Heda.” Indra moved toward the door.

Lexa turned to watch her leave, “and send in Echo, Leona and Allegany.”

Indra nodded her head and then went out the door. It hadn't quite closed behind her when Echo stepped through it. Echo stopped right in front of the door and stared at her a second. Lexa stared back. After several seconds of this Lexa asked, “who are you loyal to? Your queen, or I?” She watched the play of emotions past so subtly across the elegant features of Echo's face. Finally though, Echo closed the short distance between them and knelt in front of her, “you are Heda.” Echo replied.

“Rise.” Lexa replied simply. Indra had been right. This one, was loyal. Echo stood up. Lexa studied her a second longer, “you impersonated a Night Blood.”

“To bring a message.” Echo agreed.

“That could have meant your death.”

Echo nodded, “yes, Heda.”

At last Lexa said, “and you have served me well. You will be given the sanctuary you need.”

“Thank you, Heda.” Echo replied. Then the door behind them opened and Lexa glanced to it to watch as, one after the other, Leona and Allegany stepped in. The door closed behind them. Lexa could see the tug of emotions from confusion to thankfulness to maybe a little bit of anger in their eyes. It was understandable. She could not blame them. She addressed it first, “and so I am not as dead as you thought?”

Leona spoke first, “no, Heda, and I am glad you are not.”

“Come over here.” Lexa said next. She watched as they looked at each other and then came to stand where she was. She searched their eyes, “Indra tells me, the two of you are Night Bloods. And that the two of you were sent as potentials by your Clans.”

“Yes, Commander.” Allegany answered.

Leona nodded in reply.

Lexa felt her eyes twitch just a little more than she'd of liked for them to, “how old are you?”

“Fifteen.” Leona answered.

“Sixteen.” Allegany said.

That was even more concerning. She took a step back from them and asked seriously, “and why are you not at the school?” They should have been. Years ago. She should have probably even trained with them for the last year or two she had spent there.

“Luna gave me the choice.” Allegany answered.

“I hid it,” Leona answered, “until the mountain. My first true fight, was there.”

“I see.” Lexa folded her arms, “so each of you did not want to go to the school?”

“I never thought about it enough.” Allegany replied.

“I didn't think I would be needed.” Leona's answer quietly left her lips.

“You're always needed.” Lexa replied, hearing that. She looked at them both, she looked over at Echo, asking her without words to come stand with the other two. Echo stepped forward and stood beside the both of them, “black blood or not. Understand?”

“Heda?” Echo answered.

Lexa turned and started to pace just a little bit, framing her thoughts and her words carefully because she knew this might be a dangerous step to take if Indra's trust in these three were misplaced – because she hadn't time to gain trust in them for herself. At last she looked at them, “I ask two things of you,” she said, the first is that I will be sending the three of you back to Polis tonight.”

“Chit?” Allegany asked.

Leona blinked in surprise, “Heda?”

“The Night Blood children at the school,” Lexa turned to them, “I need you to get them, and bring them back here.” she looked at the three of them, “can you do this for me?”

“Sha.” Echo answered right away.

Allegany nodded, “yes.”

“Yes, Heda,” Leona answered, “but what if Titus is there? And what if the children will not listen?”

“Titus is on a sabbatical, apparently.” Lexa replied, “and as for the children...” she moved over to the dresser where her knife lay. She nodded down at it and looked at Leona, “pick this up.” Carefully, Leona came forward and took the knife. Lexa felt her jaw tighten a little, “give that to the boy called Aden. He will trust you. Tell him not to question. He will come with you, and he will have the others come.”

“Commander?” Echo spoke up, “can I ask why you ask us to bring them?”

She inhaled, but she did it in a way she had long learned that kept it hidden from others, that made it look only like a pause in her thoughts as though she was considering her answers, “I am not sure if they are safe there.”

“I see.” Echo answered.

“And you expect fighting, Heda?” Allegany asked.

Again she was careful with her answer, “I hope what we must do can be done with little bloodshed as possible. Do you have horses? Have they been found?”

“Sha, Lincoln has them in another house.” Leona replied.

“Then you will leave tonight and be back by morning.” She took a step in toward Leona, but looked over at the other two as well, “do not let them see you. There are tunnels under the city. Use them to get in, and out again. There are seven children. Split them into groups between the three of you. You will not be as noticeable then.”

“We will do so, Heda.” Leona replied. She glanced at Echo and then at Allegany before looking back at Lexa.

“Thank you,” Lexa answered, “now, to the second thing I ask. When this is over Leona, that you and Allegany,” she looked over at Allegany, “will come to the school and train. And you, Echo, after this is done I would like for you to consider being on the counsel as a representative of the Azgeda. You are intelligent, you realise there is more than just one clan at stake here. We could use that and your insight for your people.”

Echo nodded, “I will consider it.”

The room went a little quieter then, and dismissing them was right at the tip of her tongue. Then she noticed that Leona and Allegany were both glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes, probably hoping she wouldn't notice their discomfort, but she had. So instead of dismissing them she asked, “what is it? Speak true.”

The glances between the two stopped, and they glanced at each other fully now. Then finally biting her lower lip for only a second Leona raised her eyes up to Lexa's, “we feel we disappointed you, Heda.”

“We failed you in the calling. We did not know enough. We could not repeat enough from the Wall of Words.” Allegany asked, coming to stand where Leona was. Leona looked at her and finished, “and now John Murphy is there.”

Lexa felt her heart soften ever so fractionally for them. She did something she rarely ever did in her manner of command except maybe with her Night Bloods. And these two were now included in that number. So she set her hands one to each side of their heads and brushed strands of their hair gently behind their ears, “of course you couldn't.” she said to them softly, lowering her hands to her sides. She offered them a quiet smile, and reminded them, “the knowledge you need to do so, is not yet there.” They relaxed at this, and seemed surprised and maybe a tiny bit chagrined that they hadn't made this connection themselves. They tucked their heads a little, “Heda.”

“No go,” she said, including Echo in with a look, “the three of you. Get ready. You will leave in a few hours.”

\--==--

The Rover was parked at the far end of the street.

Clarke walked up to it. She looked back at Octavia who was standing next to Raven, “so Bellamy drove this here?”

“Yup,” Octavia answered folding her arms, “apparently, a helicopter making laps overhead led him right to us.”

Clarke thought about that, “that's not good.”

“Yeah, well, I am thinking it doesn't matter much because you have to know the significance of it.” Octavia replied, “Sure, a lot of people might have seen us but...” she shrugged.

“Besides, Lexa is getting us out of here anyway, right?" Raven asked, "isn't that the point of us,” she looked at Octavia briefly to include her, “leaving here tonight. What's this Ring of Stones place anyway?”

“I don't know.” Clarke replied.

“You don't?” Raven seemed surprised.

Clarke shook her head and looked from one to the other, “I've never been there.  But apparently its too far to make it on foot in a day. Or even on horse. Speaking of, how... I mean.. did you have horses or was the helicopter in the Mountain.”

“It was in a Base we found not far from here.  We let the horses go before we left in the helicopter.” Octavia replied casually.

Clarke nodded and changed the subject back, “but I guess this Rover make the trip in several hours? I think Lexa is expecting you back at dawn.”

“Of course she is.” Raven replied.

Clarke ignored the irony in the statement. Instead she asked, “can you drive this?”

Raven actually broke into a grin, “Clarke,” she reminded, “I just landed here in a _helicopter_?”

“Right,” Clarke replied, “so, I guess you guys go with Indra to this Ring of Stones place. At a guess, so you will know what it is later for some reason even I am not sure of yet.”

“You aren't sure of yet?” Octavia asked doubtfully with a slight lift of her eyebrow.

“No,” Clarke answered honestly, “I am not sure what she is planning yet. We haven't had time to talk about it. She is just getting details as she goes. But this,” Clarke tried to change the subject to something else that did not concern Lexa until she had a chance to talk to her by looking at the Rover again, “we have these now?”

“Did get that out of the Mountain.” Octavia supplied, “actually, we are getting a lot of things out of the Mountain. If it wasn't for the Civil War the Clans are working themselves into, I'd, you know, start to worry they might not like us anymore?” Octavia put a slight sarcastic tone into that last sentence and included a tiny smile. Then she looked at Clarke and added, “a lot of things have changed at home since you've been gone.”

Yeah, well,” Raven unfolded her arms and added, “apparently, a lot of things have been changing and more than just at home.” she eyed Clarke carefully. So did Octavia.

Their implication was pretty clear, “what?” she asked back, setting her eyes a little harder and looking at them both, “you mean myself and Lexa?”

“We saw how you were when you thought she was going to die.” Raven replied. Her eyes moved over Clarke, “you fell apart.”

“Raven...” Clarke tried to approach this rationally--

“You kissed her.” Octavia pointed out.

“On the forehead.” Clarke clarified, only because she did not want them implying anything had been done that Lexa might have been uncomfortable with in front of them. That was, if Lexa was uncomfortable with public displays of affection or not. The truth was, Clarke didn't even know what their boundaries would be in public yet.  Lexa did take her hand, yesterday, so.....

“But you are with her, aren't you?” Octavia's tone was more detached, but clear. Octavia watched her with that look in her eyes that she got when it seemed she was quietly staring right into a person's soul.

“Yes.” Clarke answered firmly. Octavia said nothing back. Raven however took in a deeper breath, a very very slight snarl turning her lips as she closed her eyes a little bit. Clarke stepped in and looked at each of them, “and,” she said getting their attention, “I would like you to be happy for me, can you do that?”

It felt like several minutes ticked by after that. It might have only been seconds though. Clarke didn't really know. At last Octavia smiled just fractionally, “yeah.” she answered, “guess so.”

“Raven?” Clarke asked.

Raven just snorted at her softly and rolled her eyes and answered, “you just wait until your mommy finds--”

“--We're leaving early.” Indra walked up behind them. Clarke had seen her a split second before she had talked, but the other two jumped and turned on her.

“Indra.” Octavia asked.

“Heda says now.” Indra answered.

“Right.” Octavia said. She glanced at Raven. Clarke stepped aside for her but as she did she turned Raven by the shoulder, shrugged a little and tried to ask a question that was hard, just because the weapon was related to what she had done at the damn Mountain, “you got my gun?”

Raven nodded, “yeah Princess.”

“Okay,” Clarke answered, she looked at Indra and Octavia, “take care of these two?”

Octavia only rolled her eyes. Indra said nothing. Raven just grunted at her, turned, opened the door of the Rover up and climbed in. Clarke stepped back. Octavia pushed up from where she had been sitting and went around to the front passenger side, “I got shotgun.” she said.

Indra eyed her carefully as she stepped forward and got just as carefully into the back seat of the vehicle, looking absolutely on guard to anything at the moment. Still Indra asked Octavia, “and what does that mean?”

“I have no idea.” Octavia admitted, climbing into the front passenger side, “Bell says its what they used to say about riding in cars before the bombs.”

Indra took a second to look at Octavia as though she was not amused, but it was easy to tell she actually was. Clarke thought about hiding a smile, but why? She had missed her friends too long. She went forward to where Indra was, “careful,” she said, Indra looked at her oddly but Clarke was careful as she shut the door only after the General's arms and legs were all in. She closed Raven's as well. On the other side of the Rover, Octavia pulled her door closed.

“There's been an attack very near here-” Clarke started to say.

“We got it Clarke.” Octavia assured her.

Clarke nodded and stepped away from the vehicle.

Raven turned it on and Clarke smiled to see that Raven could not keep the smile from her face as she glanced at her and said, “see you in the morning.”

\--==--

 Bellamy knew, since he had taken that shot, that this moment would come.

So he waited sitting on an old concrete bench around the corner of the house near its wall, surrounded by ancient trees and overgrowth that might have once been manicured, and sure enough--

There she was.

One second not there, the very next second the edge of his eye caught her standing, half in the shadow cast by the house, like a statue just a few feet away. The Commander of the Grounders had arrived. He didn't have to look at her to let her know that he knew she was there. But he did. Then he looked away, “say what you want to?”

She didn't move. She continued to study him. After a second she asked, “why did you do it?”

He closed his eyes because he had for a while now been asking himself that same question. She'd left them to die. He should have let her die. But he opened his eyes and dryly he answered, “it wasn't for you.”

“I am sure of that,” She answered levelly, “so tell me?”

“For some reason your ...culture, such as it is, is important to my sister,” he finally gave her the same answer he had been coming back to himself each time, “and she thinks it will fall apart without you and that we will all die. I know Octavia better than anyone else.”

She spoke up, “maybe you used to.”

He rolled his eyes closed a little. He wasn't taking her bait. Finally he said, “and if she believes there is something wrong. I've learned to believe her.”

“So you saved me for the sake of your people?” She almost sounded like she could understand this.

He grunted, “I saved you,” he finally looked at her, “for the sake of my sister.”

“I see.”

He looked away from her again, “and for Clarke.”

That brought a long pause between both of them. The tension originally in the air between them, he'd realized had, slowly, over the past few words, dissipated. Now there was only silence. In fact, if he hadn't been watching her out of the corner of his eye he would have thought she had gone. But she hadn't. In fact, right as though those thoughts went through his head Lexa spoke up again, “I came here to thank you.”

He grunted fractionally and felt his face twist in a slight grimace, this to acknowledge he'd heard her at least.

“But the words themselves, hearing your reasoning, are inadequate.”

Right then, he deflated. He did so with a roll of his eyes and an escape of his breath that he didn't even know he had been holding but felt he had been holding too long, “did you want to sit down?” he asked, looking at her.

She answered calmly, “I can leave, Bellamy.”

“You love Clarke?” he looked at her again.

Her face was passionless. He might as well have asked this to the wall behind his back. But then she said, “I care about her.”

“Then sit down, Heda.” he stressed her title maybe a little more than he should have but he needed her to get it, to listen, and sit down. He realised then he had just issued an order to the Grounder Commander and she was still standing right where she was. So finally he inhaled deeply and asked, “please?”

She came forward hesitantly at last and sat on the bench next to him, but her posture read as though she was ready to take off at any minute. He didn't care. He looked at the ground, “you left us at the Mountain.”

“I must put my people first.”

He answered, “so I've heard. But that is not what the deal is now, that's over. We can't go back. We can't change it. But I know that Clarke cares about you too.” he stopped talking then, and looked over at her, to see her face, to see if any signs of a reaction were there. There wasn't. She just sat there with her jaw tight and her eyes looking right back at his. He added, “but if you hurt her like that again..”

Just for a split second, so fast he might have imagined it, he thought he might have seen some kind of hurt in her eyes, as though he hit home, or something, put a crack in her damn walls. But just as fast as it was there it was gone and he decided he had to have been imagining it and she looked away again. But then two evenly toned words left her, “I won't.”

“Okay.” He said. He sat back, “and now that that is cleared up. There's actually something I need to tell you about the Ice Nation.”

“Go on.” Lexa prompted him, sitting back against the wall as well. But this time her voice when she spoke had carried with it, a definite -and dangerous- edge.

 

 


	49. Line in the Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hi everyone,
> 
> How you all holding up? Me, I am absorbing myself in fan fic..... this one and others.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments guys. You are so sweet, and I have to admit some of them made me laugh out loud like I haven't since ..you know.. so, thank you. ^_^
> 
> So, this chapter. 
> 
> Instead of posting up about -four- I think, smaller chapters, I just edited them all into one big chapter for you. You will notice the switch in scenes where these chapters would have broken off. I hope they transition okay as such. ((This is why I usually post smaller chapters up to keep things smooth. But in doing that tonight one of them might only have been a few paragraphs long even shorter than that last short one.))
> 
> So here we are at chapter 49. ((Chapter 49! eep!)) This chapter is just a little more groundwork/set up and fluff and so on. But I think we could all use a little fluff right about now. :( 
> 
>  
> 
> \--DistantStar
> 
>  
> 
> \--==--

Clarke had the most incredible headache that she could imagine to exist, and no way to make it go away. Her friends downstairs were okay for the night. They were concerned with everything going on. Of course they were. Especially with Raven and Octavia gone. Bellamy was making a point to sit in the hall with Echo. Jasper, had finally appeared and had taken to sitting with his back to the wall in corner of the room downstairs. Lincoln was now at post outside the front door.

When night started falling Clarke came back upstairs at last. Finding the room empty and nearly dark she left the door open just the smallest of cracks so that Lexa could push it open on her own. Clarke pulled off her clothes and found herself wishing she could wash off. But she knew that water in the house was now limited even if she had a feeling they would not be here much longer. Landing a helicopter here was not a wise decision. But she already knew at the time that it landed, they had already been discussing leaving.

Opening the top drawer she pulled out a soft white button up that went to just above the middle of her thigh and slipped it on. There were other shirts like it in the drawer. Among them a black one. Knowing it would be Lexa's preference over the blue and even the red she took this one out and laid it on their bed. Going back to the dresser Clarke lit the candle, casting the room into its soft golden glow. Finally, taking Lexa's tree comb off the dresser she started pulling it through the knots and tangles the helicopter wind had made in her hair.

“--You will bring them to me the moment you are back with them.” Lexa's voice sounded then, just outside the door.

“Yes Heda.” Echo's voice.

“Then go,” Lexa said next, Clarke saw her fingers slip through the door and pause between it and the frame, “go now.”

There was a mumbled assent of 'Heda' and 'Sha' from three separate voices. A few seconds after that opening the door by pushing it back with her arm Lexa turned toward her as she stepped through it and into the room. Clarke saw her breath catch instantly the minute Lexa found her standing there, “Clarke.” she said, slowly elbowing the door closed all the way behind her again.

And just like that, the Commander was gone.

Clarke smiled at her softly and stopped pulling the comb through her hair. She set it aside.

Lexa stepped forward just a step and took her in again. Clarke could feel her eyes move over every inch of her body until at last they landed on her own. Lexa wet her lips just a tiny bit before she took another few steps forward. Then Lexa's hands were framing her face and the soft press of her lips settled warmly on Clarke's. The kiss went from gentle to urgent more quickly than Clarke had expect and she felt her knees start to weaken and had to wrap a hand around Lexa's neck only to have Lexa pull away just the breath of a space, leaving her wanting more for that split second, before stepping in and kissing her more softly a second time. Finally Lexa settled her forehead against Clarke's and settled her arms around her waist before asking, “and so, Clarke, how was your day?”

Clarke couldn't help the burst of laughter that left her, making Lexa pull back just enough to look at her in surprise. Clarke stifled it by clearing her throat but she couldn't help her smile amused by the touch of sarcasm she knew was twinned with perfect seriousness to the question in a manner that only Lexa could pull of. Then she also realized that suddenly her headache was starting to fade away.

“chit?” Lexa asked her.

Clarke shook her head just a little bit in amusement before saying, “aside from the helicopter landing outside? Fighting in the street? You getting nearly killed by....” she realised she had no idea who the bastard was.

“General Linden of the Sheidgeda.” Lexa supplied the answer, as though she knew Clarke as looking for it.

“Right.” She answered, “him. So, what is all of this, how many Generals do you have? I thought Indra...”

“One from each Clan.” Lexa answered, against her neck. Her lips started kissing silkily up her throat as she spoke, “generally, they are not in Polis. They leave that to their ambassadors. But this was a--” Clarke heard the hesitation before Lexa stepped back, “significant occasion all the Generals were to come for.”

“You mean the Tree,” Clarke stated darkly, searching the eyes just a few inches from hers, “to kill you.”

“Yes.” She answered, “but Linden moved against me today. That means his Clan does. The Sheidgeda have always been ...underhanded in the same way the Azgeda are forthright. Fortunately, he is dead now. Which means he could not get word about us back to the capital prematurely. But he has been missed by now, Clarke.”

Clarke asked, “so they will be looking for him soon?”

“Yes. And as a result of that or the helicopter, indirectly,” Lexa added, looking around their room, “they will find this place. Not tonight, but soon. So we are leaving tomorrow when everyone comes back.”

Clarke shook her head slowly in quiet exasperation. As she did though she saw weariness creep unbidden into the edges of Lexa's soft eyes. Lexa was tired. Clarke was surprised for a second by it. But this was as busy has Lexa had been probably in weeks. Quickly she lifted her hands to Lexa's gear, “let's get you out of this.” she started opening buckles, catching the shoulder-piece before it fell. Clarke set it on the floor and stood and started opening the buckles of Lexa's belt, “how did Linden get here?”

“He may have followed Indra from the capitol. He may have followed the helicopter. I can't say for sure and probably we won't ever have that answer. But it doesn't matter now that we are leaving.”

“For Polis?” Clarke got the belt off and started on Lexa's bracers and gloves.

“No. Not yet. We are not quite ready for Polis,” Lexa answered, “we will go to the Ring of Stones to be sure everyone is safe.”

Clarke set the gloves aside with the rest of Lexa's gear. That was the second time today she'd heard Lexa mention the place, and not the first time she had wondered about it, “what is this Ring of Stones?” She worked her hands under the edges of Lexa's coat and started to push it from her shoulders. But Lexa stepped in, circled an arm around her back and brought their lips together suddenly. Clarke felt her insides burst into a tender ache that left her limbs weak at the feel of Lexa's soft lips on hers. They were so soft. Even after kissing them so many times, it still left her breathless. After a second or so Lexa stepped back, Clarke was trembling just a small bit and was grateful Lexa kept an arm around her or she wasn't sure she would be able to stand. Lexa whispered, “sorry...”

In reply, Clarke only ran her tongue along her lips, still feeling the heat on them from Lexa's kiss. She stepped forward this time and pushed Lexa's coat off of her shoulders. It fell to catch at Lexa's elbows and as she looked up into green eyes she realised Lexa was not apologizing for kissing her. Clarke blinked. She tried to move back to look at her better but Lexa's arms only tightened which made her own settle at Lexa's waist, “what's wrong?”

“Bellamy said something tonight.”

Clarke felt her mouth open just a fraction in surprise that she and Bellamy had actually talked, and also in uncertainty of where this was going, but she felt how stiff Lexa was under her hands. Clarke could already tell just by that she wasn't going to want to hear what Lexa said next. Still, she slid her hands under the hem of Lexa's shirt at her back and started trying to comfort her any measure that she could by smoothing little circles into her skin, “go on?”

“The Azgeda have moved an army into your people's abandoned camp.”

“What?” Clarke heard herself ask. She stared at Lexa. That could not be, “how?”

“It doesn't matter. It is an army, Clarke,” she searched Clarke's eyes. Her words were quiet but yet bristling with undertones of fury, “they have invaded Trikru land. More and more Azgeda arrive there each day, he says. It's only a matter of time until they attack.”

A cold feeling sank into Clarke's stomach. She wasn't sure what was worse or what caused it more, the words Lexa said or the way she had said it. She pulled her hands loose from Lexa's waist though, not missing her startled surprise, but before Clarke allowed any of that surprise to settle into Lexa's beautiful head she wrapped her hands in Lexa's hair and turned her face toward hers fully, “what happens now?” Clarke asked her. Their eyes were just inches apart.

For the next few seconds Lexa only stared back at her. Clarke watched as a vast mix of emotions blend in Lexa's eyes, anger, worry, determination, exhaustion, hurt all set off with tiny hints of fear and maybe, maybe ...a few that Clarke couldn't think of or dare to put a name on. She watched Lexa frame several unspoken thoughts with a slight opening of her lips a few times through this process but not actually speaking them. Finally though, as though they could be held back no longer, as though her teeth bared together for a second as though they were the last barrier blocking the decision from leaving her lips she said at last, “we go back to the Mountain.”

Clarke felt her breath catch, despite herself, at those six words. At those six words she felt a little stab of everything she'd been avoiding eat its way up out of her soul to burst over her skin. She felt Lexa pull sharply from her because she must have felt this too. But before she could stop herself or think anything different Clarke caught her back by the wrists, “are you sure?” she asked, she even felt her eyes squint briefly as she took Lexa's in.

“Yes.” Lexa answered, watching her, searching her face and eyes as though trying to read for any hint of what Clarke was feeling. Lexa went on, “tomorrow. After the others come back we will hold a war meeting that includes everyone. After that, we will go.”

“Alright....” Clarke exhaled. She felt cold though, shaking inside, with the idea of what that meant. With the idea of being up there again at that damned door that put holes in her heart and soul more than any gun or weapon could ever do. Was she ready? She slid her hands from Lexa's hair quickly and turned and went to the foot of the bed, taking up the black shirt there. When she turned again with it in her hand she wasn't surprised to find Lexa had turned where she was standing and was watching her carefully. Clarke wet her lips that had gone dry with nerves and glanced at the shirt, “we should get you into this.” she said, “there's a few more people here tonight.”

“Clarke....” Lexa began, cautiously. Clarke didn't miss the asessive sweep of her eyes as though Lexa was trying to read her. Clarke couldn't stand to see the hesitation. She couldn't stand to feel the hesitation in both of them. So she closed the distance fast before it could grow wider in a not physical way, curled her fingers around the warm skin at the back of Lexa's neck and brought Lexa's face close to hers until their lips met. Clarke kissed her urgently, almost desperately. She wasn't trying for dominance she wasn't trying for anything but to ensure them both. Then Lexa was kissing her back, her warm lips pressing just as urgently back onto hers, leaving just long enough to get a breath before kissing her again. Lexa put her hands into Clarke's hair and pressed her body tighter into Clarke's during this kiss and Clarke felt a little bit of the nerves they both felt melt away between them by time it broke. Lexa pulled her close by wrapping an arm around her waist. Clarke settled their foreheads together, “lets go to bed, Lexa.” she quietly said.

\--==--

The morning was frozen.

She knew that the instant Lexa threw the covers off and before Clarke was even half awake Lexa was at the frosted over glass door. She didn't go outside at least this time but while Clarke was still trying to find the covers she saw Lexa turn to her in the black shirt, “they're back.” her voice prompted Clarke to get up.

Clarke buried herself further under the furs, “I swear to God Lexa, if there isn't one morning where you don't dash out of bed.....”

“Clarke?” Lexa said, “this is no morning to stay in bed.”

“It never is.” Clarke mumbled. But she knew Lexa was right. She pushed herself to sit up slowly, not having any idea who 'they' were yet. But within minutes the door burst open wide and a noisy group of children piled through it into the room, “heda! Heda!” the cries spilled out.

Lexa moved quickly to them, and started embracing them, hugging them, running her hands down their faces as they grabbed onto her almost all at once. Clarke was busy scrambling from the bed and even though she was -thankfully- wearing something she still pulled one of the furs off and wrapped it around herself to ward off the cold.

“Heda! Heda we thought you were dead!” A girl said, clinging passionately to Lexa's leg.

“They say you're a traitor.” A small pale skinned boy with black hair clung to Lexa's side.

“Shhh..” Lexa was soothing them, now, “shhh... I am fine.”

Not all were children, one or two of them were probably younger than she or Lexa was by only a few years and taller by some inches. Still Lexa embraced these ones as well and they hugged her back.

Clarke stood there, almost in shock. She had never in the whole time she had known Lexa ever known her to be tender with ...anyone, excepting herself.

“Heda.” a voice near the door said. Lexa looked. So did Clarke. A blonde boy stepped into the room through the frame of the door through which could be seen Echo, Leona and Allegany. He had confusion all over his face, but also utter relief and adoration. Aden, Clarke thought the second she saw him offer Lexa her knife back, handle first. That was when Lexa cast a glance Clarke's way, and Clarke clutching the fur tighter against the cold she stepped forward to take the knife.

But that was when Aden saw her, leaped at her, and before Clarke could even blink she felt herself toppled to the floor with the cold blade at her throat...

“Aden no!” Lexa ordered, before Clarke could really recognize what had happened. Just as suddenly as he landed on her the boy shoved up and stepped back, dropping the knife as he did. Clarke heard it clatter, she was still trying to find where he had gone when Lexa stepped ito her line of vision instead, her back to Clarke, “Aden,” she said, Clarke pushed up, watching this. As she sat she saw Lexa had placed herself between herself and Aden, who was still staring at her with an angry sort of shock. He looked up at Lexa, “Heda, she is Wanheda. She is the one that we thought killed you!”

Lexa's face changed to one that barely, barely, hit pain, “you were there that night?”

“We all were, Heda.” one of the older boys replied.

Clarke felt her mouth go dry. She knew it was because of terrible nerves. She knew it was because of the pain hearing this must put Lexa in. She knew it was because suddenly she felt herself hurting for these kids that had to witness something like that. Lexa spoke first, “who did this?” she asked them, “who took you to that tree?”

“Titus,” the girl spoke up, “he said we needed to see what happened if a Commander went wrong.”

“Did he?” Lexa's tone took on a slight edge. Clarke watched her eyes flutter close for just a second and when she opened them and spoke again Lexa's voice was a maintained calm, “I will talk to him.” she said. Then she looked behind her and Clarke took that as her cue that it was okay, safe even, to come forward so she stepped to Lexa's side. Lexa introduced, “this is Clarke. She will not hurt me. She saved my life, that night.” Lexa looked at them firmly, “she is our friend and she is special to me.”

Aden looked at Lexa. Then he looked at Clarke, “I'm sorry.” he said to her, “I did not know you had helped Heda.”

The sincerity in his voice caught Clarke by surprise. She smiled, “no harm done, Aden. It's alright.”

In the quiet that followed Aden turned to Lexa and asked, “Heda, what did you do that was wrong? They say you took a deal with the enemy at the Mountain.”

The question hurt. It hurt Clarke the way the quiet words were asked and she knew, she knew, it hurt Lexa. Even if it wasn't in Lexa's face it was in her eyes. It took her a second. Clarke watched her considering it. She saw clearly the belief in the night blood children's eyes that their Heda could still do no wrong, that someone had lied to them, just like they had about her dying. At last Lexa spoke, “I made a decision to save people's lives instead of going to war against the mountain.”

Aden blinked. Clarke felt his shock, “so it's true?” he asked.

She felt Lexa's pain as she nodded, “sha.” Lexa looked the small group over. So did Clarke. They all seemed shocked. Lexa continued, “someday, maybe you will understand.”

At last Aden gave her a quiet, accepting nod, “maybe Heda.” he agreed. The others murmured the same assent. He added, “I am just glad you are not dead.”

“Me too, Aden.” she said. She inhaled then and looked toward the door, “there is a room across the hall,” she said to them then, “it has been a long night for all of you. Go there and get some rest.”

“Sha Heda.” Aden turned and left the room, the other six went with him.

Lexa waited until they were out of the door before speaking quietly, “that is why he is not ready.” She turned to Clarke, “he can't understand hard decisions.”

Clarke felt at her throat to be sure there was not -another- cut there. But there wasn't. She lowered her hand, “well, he's very well trained.”

Lexa grinned, “of course he is.” she smirked, “I teach them myself. Now,” she said while Clarke digested that, Lexa turned to the opened door and spoke to Echo, Leona and Allegany, “you have done well. Thank you. The three of you should get some rest while you can. Soon there will be a war council you will attend.”

“Sha, Heda.” Echo spoke up for all of them. They moved away. Clarke watched Lexa go over to the door and close it, “we should get dressed.” she looked down at her shirt.

Clarke looked down at her own shirt and flushed furiously, “right,” she said, “yeah..” great, she had just been half dressed in front of half the people in the house. She looked over and looked at Lexa who was enjoying her blush. Clarke grunted and threw the fur she was still holding at her, “if you don't watch it, Heda, you will just have to dress yourself.”

“Would you really do that to me, Clarke?” Lexa asked.

But Lexa's mood was infectious so Clarke's answer was quick, “oh yeah.”

\--==--

Clarke had chosen to wear all black that morning. Lexa had a feeling it had to do with the Mountain. But she said nothing. She said nothing because she knew that Clarke did not want to talk about the Mountain. She said nothing because she knew it was only because they had to that she was even considering going there.

Clarke was also already better, and faster, with getting her into her gear after just one time of doing it. She was proud of her. A good warrior was always able to dress fast. But she said nothing and kept still as Clarke finished up by locking her shoulder-piece into place and stepping back, “we need your....” Clarke looked around, she tapped at her own forehead and glanced over toward their bed, “crap.”

Lexa sighed and moved fast as Clarke did. It was the only one she had with her. A quick search of furs though and the little gold gear fell onto the floor. She tried to pick it up but said nothing as he fingers stopped being able to close about halfway and felt like they were just not even there, she couldn't even feel the wood of the boards with the tips of her fingers even though they were touching it. That was the hardest part, to have sensation and then in the next minute ...feel like her fingers had been cut away even if she was looking right at them. Clarke swept into her sight, “hey,” she said, picking it up. Lexa stood with her. Clarke smiled at her, “soon.” she said, looking at Lexa's hands.

“Sha.” Lexa answered. She searched Clarke's eyes but if Clarke was feeling anything about what they would have to do to get her hands back Lexa couldn't tell. Clarke moved away from her then and went to the dresser to start mixing the water and white powder. She noticed that Clarke also had her knife on her and she must have picked it up from where Aden dropped in on the floor. She put it down on the dresser and Lexa went over to where Clarke was.

“So,” Clarke asked, turning to her and gently putting the Mark in place, “what is the first thing you will do with your hands?”  

Lexa didn't have to think about it.  She knew what the first thing was she wanted to do. But she wasn't going to tell Clarke, “wait and see.”

Clarke grunted as though she was not surprised at this. She rolled her eyes a little but then she looked Lexa over, “I think you're done.”

They went together downstairs. Lexa had heard people moving around from up in their room. But Clarke seemed surprised that her friends were already up, or, at least awake and stirring a little under their furs as though trying to go back to sleep. Clarke went to them, and Lexa watched for a second as she leaned over them, “hey,” she said to the one girl with them, “gotta get up.”

“There was a herd of kids through here a minute ago?” the girl asked groggily, sitting, “or did I dream it?”

“No, there were kids, Harper.” Clarke answered, “come on, get up. It's going to be a busy day.”

Lexa smiled at her, remembering how Clarke had protested getting out of bed herself that morning. Maybe it was a skaikru thing, who knew. She held in her smile as she watched Clarke go over to another one of her friends to do the same thing. Lexa stopped at the front door and froze realizing suddenly she couldn't open it..

Clarke's hand was on the handle in an instant and turned it. She looked at her in surprise only to find Clarke slip outside in front of her first and start down the icy walkway. Lexa stepped outside after her to find she was already halfway across the street. Lincoln was still on post beside her, quietly watching his friend, “what is she doing?” she asked Lincoln at last.  Hopefully, he knew.

“Heda, the one they called Jasper walked that direction a moment ago.” he looked at her, “most likely she is going after him.”

Lexa inhaled cold air deeply, it froze inside her lungs and made them burn but for some reason it also made her feel alive to do so, “I see,” she said to Lincoln. Then she looked at him, “go inside, get some rest while you can.”

“Heda?” he asked her in surprise.

“I got this, Lincoln,” she replied, looking over the frost on the ground.  It would snow soon, “and I have slept. You have not. Go.”

Lincoln nodded, “of course, Heda.” he said to her, still cautious. But he still turned to go. She knew why. She understood. Heda does not stand Post. But there was no one else. So she shifted her feet after the door closed behind him into the spot where he had been standing to the side of the door, folded her arms and leaned back against the wall. A part of her knew in that moment that these were all her people inside this house. Because they were Clarke's. She also knew, standing there, even if she was still instated in Polis, she had no way to protect them. She watched as Clarke disappeared around the corner of a house. Soon as she could, soon as she had the power to, Lexa knew she was going to have to change that.

\--==--

“Jasper?” Clarke asked. He was awkwardly pulling at planks from the side of a house. She approached carefully, “what are you doing?”

He looked at her. He pulled another plank loose. He looked back at the house and answered, “getting things to burn. It's cold in there.”

Hearing that, Clarke almost told him that the room that had been the kitchen was stacked high with wood to burn. But at the same time, he was up, he was doing something, and he wasn't yelling at her. So she said nothing except, “can I help?”

He nodded. So she moved forward and took the end of the plank he was pulling at. It came off faster when they both pulled at it. As it fell to the ground he looked up at her at last, “I don't hate you, Clarke.”

The words froze in the air like his breath did and at the same time they made a weight lift from her heart. She saw it in his eyes, he was on edge waiting for what she would say next. So she looked at the board they had just dropped. Stepped on one end, picked up the other, used her own weight to hold it down and snapped it into half easily because of how old and broken it was. Clarke tossed the half in her hands aside, “I know.” she answered at last, looking at him, “or you wouldn't be here.” she actually saw a weight lift from his shoulders this time. His eyes went a little glassy despite the cold.

His answer was fast, “I hate what you did.”

She agreed, “so do I.”

He nodded back, “okay.” he said, then went back to the house and started pulling at another board.

“I'm sorry Jasper.” Clarke said again, watching him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to her, “I know that.” he said her own words back to her and it surprised him, “or you wouldn't really be out here either.”

She nodded. Then finally she admitted, “we do have wood in the house.”

“I know.” he answered, stomping down on a plank he had just pulled loose and watching it shatter, “but this stuff is drier, thinner, and we can break it up into small small pieces. It catches fire faster, like paper. Only we'd call it kindling, that's what the books all said anyway,” he started gathering it in his arms, “and it is really cold in that house.”

Clarke snorted softly under her breath. Of course, Jasper would know this. She shook her head and helped him break the boards apart. When they were done she helped him gather them up until they both had an armful and walked with him back to the house. To her surprise, Lexa was at the door instead of Lincoln. Their eyes met, Lexa's softened for her for just a second. Clarke smiled back at her while she stood there waiting for Jasper to get the door. Lexa, standing watch over their house. Clarke felt herself melting at the idea of the Grounder's Commander watching over them all. Like that day in the forest when she woke up after the Gorilla. Clarke was quite sure in that second she had never been safer in her life. It was the same feeling she had seeing this now. So she smiled at Lexa, whom shifted just a little back and forth, “go inside, Clarke, its cold out.”

“I..” Clarke looked for Jasper, but apparently he'd already gone inside. Clarke was about to say something, to tell her to come inside as well. But Lexa shook her head at her, “I am fine,” she said to her, “go.”

“Okay.” Clarke pushed her way inside. Her friends were awake and up now, if grumpy. Jasper was busy building his fire. With a glance back at Lexa Clarke stepped inside and let the door close behind her. All the same, as it did, Clarke pushed a small sliver of wood between the frame of the door and the door itself. That way, if she had to, her stoic, protective girlfriend could at least get back inside.

Clarke barely had time to drop the wood near Jasper though before she heard the blast of loud horn just outside.  It make her jump.  It sounded more like an alarm on the ark than any horn she'd heard on earth.  It make her run back to the door.  She flung it open.  

Sure enough, Lexa was already away from it and down on the street.  So was the Rover.  Raven inside slammed a hand into the steering control and the horn sounded again.  It was coming from the vehicle.  Clarke felt herself staring and her adernaline wearing off as Raven flung the door wide, "you got to try this Griffin!" she called to Clarke, getting out.

Octavia got out of the other side grumbling, "I swear you like it better than the helicopter."

Raven looked at her, "I can feel how fast we're going." she said.

Indra too, looking angry to hide how glad she was the ride was over also got out of her own door.  She stopped short at sight of Lexa who came up next to her quietly, "Heda." 

Clarke walked up to them.  She stopped near Lexa as Lexa looked at the Rover and then at her General, "are you alright?"

"I will be fine, Heda." Indra grunted.

Raven just grinned ear to ear.  Octavia just shrugged and kept a stoic pose of her own.  

Clarke asked, "what did you do?"

"Nothing." both Octavia and Raven said at the same time.  Clarke's mouth dropped open because she knew by their tones not to believe them.

"Indra?" Lexa interrupted, "is it still there?" she asked.

"Sha, Heda." Indra replied, "the Ring still stands."

Lexa exhaled softly then and glanced over at Clarke and said, "we are going to be sending our people there.  Starting today."

"Okay." Clarke said.  She still had no idea what this Ring of Stones was about.  But she would go with it because apparently it was a big important thing she was sure Lexa would tell her about soon, "so we will get everyone together and..."

"No, Clarke, not just the people here," Lexa clarified.  That brought Clarke pause.  Lexa saw it and said, "all of them.  Whoever will come. Its where we draw the line at, and where we hold our ground."


	50. More than Meets the Eye

They would be leaving any minute now. Clarke had pulled the first long black coat with the buckles all the way down it around her for warmth. Her boots crunched on ice as she walked up to to the opened helicopter to find Raven inside, just as she tipped a plastic 55 gallon drum so the contents spilled out. Raven started kicking through various equipment left loose in the corner of the floor that went up to just shy of her knees, military equipment, it looked like, hand guns, vests, helmets, and other such things. She looked up as she saw Clarke, “we have all this.” she motioned to the pile at her feet to include everything in it in that statement, “found it at the base. Thought it might help.”

“I see.” Clarke replied.

Raven shrugged, “this is why O sent Harper and us to the helicopter for in the fight yesterday, but... it all ended too soon before we could even get these things loaded with bullets.” she reached down, picked up a pair of guns and held them off to each side of her in emphasis. She tossed them one after the other toward Clarke, whom caught them, one after another. Raven then grabbed up a small box that looked like it might contain ammo and came her way. Sitting on the edge of the opened helicopter door she opened the box up, and took several bullets out. Taking one of the guns from Clarke she started to load it. Clarke watched her without a word. She knew they were in a hurry. So she put aside her nerves opened the other gun up and started to load it too, “you tired?” she asked Raven.

“Nah, I didn't drive the whole way and back. Slept some. O and I took turns.” Raven finished loading the gun, “I'm good to fly.” She picked up a bag that was on the floor near her side.

Clarke nodded, “okay.” she finished loading the other gun, “good.” she was nervous. Oh why was she so nervous? She hadn't been to their camp since it happened. Now that camp was occupied. She hadn't seen her mother since then either. She hadn't been in the Mountain since...

_Neither did I..._

Clarke flashed to the memory as the sound of the gun exploded in her ears. It made her drop the one she was holding. She felt herself shaking. She felt her skin flash cold...

“Griffin?” Raven's voice sounded as though far away, as though in the bottom of that drum she had just emptied. Clarke didn't see her though.  She was watching blood spread over Dante Wallace's shirt...

“Clarke!” She heard Raven shout this time. She blinked back to the sunlight and was again standing on the street instead in that terrible room. Raven had stepped in front of her but the tell-a-tell sweat on her skin reminded Clarke of where she had just mentally gone. She watched Raven's face wrinkle in concern, “are you okay?”

Was she? Could she do this? Could she really go back to the Mountain? Clarke nodded, “yes.” she answered Raven's question at least, she wasn't sure though if it was the answer to hers. She reached down and picked up the gun she had dropped, “lets get this done.” she said, then she turned and went in the house.

She heard Lexa somewhere, off to her left in the area of the kitchen, issuing orders in Trigedasleng to her own handful of people there. Miller and Monty, Harper, Octavia and the guy called Wick were all waiting for her where the fireplace was. They were talking among each other. She didn't know what about. It didn't really matter though because they all noticed her and turned their attention the minute she and Raven walked up. Clarke looked at Octavia first, “Bellamy?”

Octavia answered, “outside, on guard with Jasper. He has this here, Clarke.  Lincoln will help him."

“Okay,” Clarke answered, studying Octavia, “good. I need you to come with us.” She didn't offer her preludes or lead ups to this. She knew Octavia didn't need any. She needed a friend backing her if it came to it that could fight. Clarke also handed the gun she had in her hand over to Miller, “grounders could arrive here, any time.” she said as he took it, “I do not want you killing them unless you have to. They stand on the brink of a civil war, some of them are our friends, some are not. We don't know which. So we don't shoot first, understand?"

“Got it.” Miller answered.

Clarke looked over at Raven, “got my gun?”

Raven patted her side, “right here.” she started to reach to take it off.

“No,” Clarke stopped her quickly, “keep it.” Raven looked at her oddly but Clarke ignored it. Raven just grunted at her. Raven dropped the bag she had then, “few more guns in here, and ammo for them.” She said to them. Raven handed the one she had just loaded though across to Harper. Harper took it slowly and tucked it into the back of her pants before asking, “when are you guys coming back?”

“I don't know,” Clarke answered, “but Raven and Wick are coming with us to get two more helicopters and should be back very soon, where the base located is just minutes from here by air.” she glanced at Raven whom folded her arms and gave her a quiet, assured nod of confirmation. Clarke went on, “they will be coming back here to pick up everyone. Raven knows where to take them to.” She looked over at the one called Wick, realizing she knew him because everyone knew everyone on the Ark but at the same time, she barely knew him, “follow her.” she said to him anyway, “and get these people out of here. These helicopters have weight limit so we will need the two of you to move everyone at once. There will be fifteen of you all together, but some will be children, so the weight should work out?” she glanced at Raven again for confirmation.

“Yeah.” she agreed, “should be fine.  Oh, and I will come back here to wait for you too."

“Thanks,” Clarke then looked at Monty, “you will be coming with me, Lexa and I need to go to Tondc.”

"Yeah, Raven told me." he answered.

“I hope you were paying attention how to fly,” Raven commented. Clarke looked at her. Raven looked back, “what?” she asked. She shrugged, “I hope you were.”

“I got it.” Monty replied, giving a nervous smile. He exhaled as though just thinking that he was about to fly and was mentally preparing himself for it.

A hand touched hers. And Clarke knew the warm fingers instantly before they pulled back, “are you ready, Clarke?” Lexa asked. Clarke glanced at her. She was all business. So was Indra who stood beside her and a step back from her. Clarke nodded, “yes.” she said. Clarke looked back at her friends, “they are too. We will all catch up when this is done.” she looked into Lexa's eyes and was suddenly trapped by them.

“Wait.. you're not coming back with them?” Harper asked.

“Not immediately,” Clarke resisted looking across at Lexa. She knew they were both thinking about why, about where they had to go to. So she said, “there's something we have to do.” she said again. She looked up at Octavia, “Octavia?”

Octavia nodded, “ready when you are.”

“Okay, lets go.” Clarke turned and started toward the door, Lexa moved to walk beside her, “Indra!” she called, in her commander's tone, to the one person she was taking with her. Indra slid into place just behind Lexa without a word.

Everyone followed them outside and to the side of the helicopter. Raven moved away first, yanking open the door she pulled herself up into the pilot seat, reached for her helmet and pulled it on and started working her way though pre-flight checks. Wick and Monty climbed into the open helicopter and then it was Clarke's turn. She glanced behind her as she set a hand to the side of it and saw Bellamy and Jasper had come over with the others. Bellamy nodded at her and she returned the gesture. She heard the helicopter start up and suddenly everything was so loud it vibrated every bone and organ in her body. Clarke's heart beat wild with both adrenaline and anxiety. She jumped up into the machine anyway, certain with all the vibrations and rattling that it was alive under her feet. Clarke reached down then and held her hand down to Lexa. Their eyes met and held a second. Lexa looked at her offered hand, then at her. Clarke alone saw the slight inhale of the Commander's chest before she lifted her own hand to Clarke's and Clarke took the initiative and wrapped her fingers around Lexa's wrist. She pulled her up alongside her into the helicopter and while Lexa looked around without moving from that spot to get her bearings Clarke reached down for Indra as well.

She wasn't sure if Indra would take her hand. In fact, she suspected she would get up into the helicopter on her own. So when Indra's fingers took hers Clarke was surprised. She smiled despite their destination and helped Indra into the helicopter. Octavia jumped in last as though she'd been riding in one of these things her whole life. And that was it. Everyone who was coming. Clarke stepped to the open side of the door and looked out. She framed the opening by bracing a hand to each side of the door. It was too loud to say anything. But she looked out at those who were being left behind.  For now.

Then Monty was suddenly there, “hold on to something!” he shouted at her. She could barely hear him over the noise and then the helicopter slowly started lifting off the ground. The floor grew unsteady, she grabbed a bar built into the wall and at the same time grabbed Lexa around the waist. Monty closed the helicopter door with to keep everything, including them, from falling out. Clarke let go of Lexa only then and went to the windows to look out.

Her friends on the ground were getting smaller and smaller. Then she could barely see them at all for the faded sprawl of subdivision that spread its fingers through the trees. They went higher still until the detail of that was gone and the ground was pacing like a beautiful pallet of color far below them. She felt Lexa come up to her side and glanced at her. Clarke stepped aside to let her come up to the edge of the window. Lexa's face shone such with beauty and surprise the second she looked out and saw her world far below that it made Clarke's breath catch. Then Lexa looked across at her with a glimmer of that awe still in her features, and Clarke smiled at her. Lexa smiled back one of her quiet smiles and then continued to survey her land from high above it. Clarke shook her head a little, up here in the noise, she couldn't talk to her, but she didn't have to. They both were feeling the same amazement and exhilaration course through them. Even the nerves of where they were going were forgotten. That was, until the helicopter started to make a slow decent again.

Clarke pulled away from the window the lower they dropped. Her stomach felt sick suddenly. She felt dizzy. She tipped her head back against the steel wall. Lexa continued to look out though, she caught that out of the corner of her eye that she cracked open just fast enough to see her. And in spite feeling sick, Clarke had to smile again. She would never forget seeing Lexa like this. Happy, excited, alive. The way she loved her best.

The helicopter finally settled but the blades did not switch off. They wouldn't. They were trying to be fast. She looked to see Raven getting out of her seat and Monty sliding into her place and snapping a helmet over his head. A look outside showed cracked remains of half-standing buildings filled in with forest rising out of the ground. The base. The other helicopters were here. That hadn't taken long. Then Raven was striding back toward her and was at her ear, “this is my out!” she shouted over the noise.

Clarke nodded at her to say she understood, “go back for the others!” she shouted back.

“I got this Clarke!” Raven said, with a grin on her face. Clarke watched as Raven hugged Octavia first. Then she moved forward and surprised Clarke by hugging her as well. Raven stepped back. She looked over at Lexa. The two held each others eyes a minute and Clarke was holding her breath. Then Raven gave Lexa a small nod and Lexa returned it. For some reason even _without_ them smiling at each other that made relief flood through Clarke like she hadn't imagined it could. Then Raven was opening the side door of the noisy helicopter. She sat on the edge and Wick pushed between both Clarke and Lexa and jumped out to the ground. He helped Raven down. After she was on the ground and on her feet Raven looked back up at them, “go!” she shouted. But Clarke only saw her mouth move. Over the noise she couldn't hear the words. But Monty must have been watching because within seconds the aircraft started lifting off the ground again. Clarke looked to where he was studiously busy with the controls in the pilot seat, helmet on his head. She looked again to the ground getting farther below them, noticed that Lexa had Indra by the arm, instead of the other way around, and Clarke, remembering how Monty had done it, reached out and closed the helicopter door.

It cut the sound a little but not much. She still couldn't hear, but it had cut the rush of wind. The floor was still unstable under their feet. She and Lexa had long conquered the ability to talk to each other with just a glance. So she gave her one now where she stood with Octavia and Indra, to agree between them that things were working as planned so far before moving on somewhat unsteady feet through the area up to the front where Monty was flying, and found herself off balance and more thrown to sit into the seat next to him instead of sliding into it on her own.

She knew he saw her out of the corner of his eye, even though he never tore his eyes off what he was doing. Because he handed a helmet across to her. She didn't know why. But the implication was clear, he wanted her to put it on. So she did, she struggled with it and got it over her head. His voice was in her ear a second later, “Clarke?” she saw him glance at her again out of the corner of his eye.

She was surprised. She smiled in that surprise and answered back, “oh wow.”

“Yeah.” he answered. He was carefully watching what he was doing though, watching both the controls and the air outside the window. She looked out as well, saw nothing but blue and wisps of clouds. When she peered over the edge of the door she could see the mixed colors of earth far below, mostly off-white brown from ice with quieter color and shades of green where trees were. She looked back at him, “this is amazing.” she said, she saw him smile then she looked at him and asked, “did you know you could fly a helicopter?”

“Nope,” his laugh came to her ear under the helmet, “that, I did not.” he smiled over at her. He looked back to the controls, “we will be at Tondc in about five minutes...”

“Five minutes!” she jerked her head his way to look at him, “five.....” she blinked then looked ahead, “how fast does this thing go?”

“Rae says max speed is 183 miles per hour. The Base was –at a guess-- about 30 miles from Tondc.” He spared a half glance her way, “you do the math.”

Five minutes. She looked down at her father's watch. She looked to the back to see Indra had actually, if stiffly, taken some interest in looking out the window to the ground below while Lexa seemed as though she couldn't get enough of the sight below them. Okay, she thought, five minutes. She looked at the dash and at all the controls in front of her. She didn't touch them because she didn't want to crash them but there was no time like the present to start to learn, “what does all this stuff do?”

\--==--

Abby poured water over her hands to wash off the dirt from the morning's training. It wasn't so hard anymore. At least she wasn't waking up with bruises all over her body. At least she was finally at least holding her ground.. she inhaled heavily though. And drew her lips to a thin line and looked around her. They had come here to this village almost by force. But most of them, of each of the two peoples here, remembered from before the Mountain and a tentative camaraderie had almost formed. In fact they mingled together through the now crowded village, instead of sitting in consolidated groups of one people or the other, and the youngest children were already fluent in trigedasleng. Most homes had been rebuilt, the rubble cleared away and used to build them, the underground parts that used to be a subway system cleared out and with some rebuilding of broken stones was nearly what it had once been.

With the threat of the Ice Nation sitting back in their camp a heavy watch rotation was in place at all times. Doctor or not, Chancellor or not, she had volunteered for it and was assigned to it tonight so she knew she had to get some sleep.

“Abby?” Marcus' voice asked, getting her attention from her left. She turned to it and saw him walking up, sword in hand. He was just sheathing it as he stopped where she was. She looked at it and commented, “I hear you are getting pretty good at that.”

He inhaled as though he was reflecting on it and said, “I guess I do okay.”

She looked over the camp again, “I just wish we could get them to use guns.”

“It's not their way, Abby,” he quietly, non-confrontationally told her. He shrugged. He was so accepting of these things. Then without another word he started to wash off his hands. Abby let it go, because she knew he was right. There was no convincing them at this point, she was sure. A rattling sound filled her ears though, like old machinery, a noise she was used to. But it got louder and louder and almost sounded like the blades of a fan before, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed she wasn't the only one hearing it. People were running all one direction. Some were shouting words so fast she didn't have time to interpret them in her just adapting to a new language mind. She looked at them and saw them pointing up into the sky. She did too.

A black spot marked the gray morning's blue. She stood frozen where she was, staring at it, “Marcus.” she said once, as the black spot grew larger still. She grabbed his shoulder and shook it, “Marcus!”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn and look up. He dropped the rag he was drying his hand on, “what the hell is that?” he asked.

She stared. She didn't know. More and more of the people in the village were running toward it. Their shouting at last brought Nyko storming from his tent. The 'left in command' grounder stared up into the sky at the black dot as it grew larger still. Marcus took several strides forward then, “its a helicopter.”

She glared at him, “helicopter, as in....” she asked, startled, “from before?”

He nodded and added, “and its coming this way.”

“What?” the word barely left her when she noticed the aircraft had in fact stopped right above them. Some grounders ran, some grabbed weapons and prepared to fight it, yelling words that were washed out by the noise as the helicopter started to lower to the ground. There were numbers on the bottom, she could read them now. _Three one nine._ They stuck in her head. _Why?_ She knew the number but... Clarke?  Abby took a step forward and dared to hope.

The helicopter was almost on top of them and Abby couldn't move away. She covered her ears to block out the noise that tore through them. So many Grounders were now grabbing each other's hands and pulling each other way in the blasting wind. Marcus did the same to her, she realised, he yanked her wrist, pulling her away when it was just ten or so feet from the ground. They fell and rolled onto the ground against the wall of a home just rebuilt. The noise stopped suddenly first with a whine of dying engines. She looked up and shoved up to her feet alongside Marcus in time to see the slowing of rotary blades but she couldn't take her eyes off the machine that sat in the middle of the village. She watched as Grounder's rushed it from all sides, flooding it, threatening to spill over it before suddenly Nyko shouted loud above everyone, “chil yo daun!”

Abby looked toward him in the insane hard silence that followed. So did everyone else. He was staring. He was staring at the old machine settled there. He was staring through the window to the form on the _other_ side of the glass. A name loud enough for everyone to be heard in the silence that suddenly fell on the village passed his lips, “Indra.” he pointed through the window.

“Indra..?” Marcus asked. Abby, like many of the grounders, found she could only stare in shock, like statues, standing there. Then Indra suddenly pulled away and left their sight...

\--==--

Lexa had moved to the back of the cargo space, near the corner where two bulkheads met, so as not to be seen when they opened the door. Clarke had gone with her and she could tell by looking at her, that she was burning to go out there. She could also tell by looking in her eyes that Lexa knew she couldn't, not yet. If word that she was alive got back to Polis before they did it would give any opposition they might meet time to set up, to prepare to take the helicopters down. They could not have that. Clarke searched her eyes, “I got this.” she whispered, reaching down she gripped Lexa's warm hands.

Lexa nodded once, stiffly, and pressed her back further into the corner, “Indra?” she asked as she did though.

Indra turned, “Heda?”

“Stay with your village,” she said to her, “war is brewing, and you are needed here. We will come when we can.”

Indra replied, “Sha Heda.”

Octavia, impatient as ever, came and took Clarke's coat by the arm, “its time.”

Clarke let Lexa go, and moved away from her to the door where Indra was with Monty. Pulling her hood over her hair she motioned to the door, “open it.”

It opened with a sound of grating metal. Indra stepped out first, dropping onto the cold ground quietly in sound but loudly in posture, returning home. Octavia dropped to the ground just a second behind her and looked into the village the same way Indra was. While they did, Clarke, still in the helicopter, heard murmurs come up from the village that slowly, slowly turned to excited shouts. People started moving toward where Indra was. Monty got out of the helicopter next and stopped moving decisively the second he was on the ground. Everyone was busy paying attention to everyone else so Clarke spared a quick glance at Lexa, who looked back at her with a painful, deeper look than the nod she afforded her. Returning it Clarke, finally, jumped out of the aircraft and onto the ground and closed the door.

It was amazing, what she saw, her people and Lexa's people living as one. It startled her. Except for the tell-a-tell styles of clothing here or there that was also being covered with time she could almost not believe two separate people were here. She glanced at Octavia in surprise. Octavia just shrugged at her in return. Clarke finally took a step forward through them, then a few more careful ones, trying to make her way through the people gathered around Indra without pushing them over--

“--Clarke!” her mom's voice shouted her name.

Clarke turned to it quickly. It felt like everything stopped there, even if out of the corner of her eye she saw people still coming up to Indra and also to Octavia and also to the aircraft they'd arrived in. She saw her mom at last, pushing forward through the crowd as fast as she could. Clarke's heart skipped an actual beat. Then she was running toward her. But she felt caught in some sort of slow motion, her black coat tripping around her legs and the ice under her boots crunching too loud in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of people moving quickly to get out of their way. Out of the corner of her eye she saw other people freeze in shock of her running past them.

Then her mom was throwing her arms around her tight. She caught her arms around her and embraced her tightly back. Clarke lowered her jaw to her mom's shoulders and felt the familiar tangle of her mom's fingers through her hair as she hugged her. She was reminded in that instant, how different they were, how much alike they were, how much her mom hated some things she had did. How much she hated some things her mom did. How much she could never forgive her for. But she also didn't realise how much she had _missed_ her mother. She hadn't known how much it _hurt_ to leave. She hadn't known how much of the ache her mom could take away and cause at the same time just because she _was_ her mother. But there wasn't time. There wasn't time now. They had to deal with reunions later and Clarke found herself already glancing back toward the helicopter as she tried to untangle herself from her mom's arms, “mom I-”

“--wanheda?” the question was quiet, tentative, beside her. She turned to the title before she meant to. The speaker was a warrior, a boy just younger than she and her looking at him confirmed it. He shouted it louder, “wanheda!” and suddenly he was dropping to his knees on the ground. It startled her a minute and then she felt pain mixed with an unrealised sort of panic that this could not happen as she started to try and pull him up, “no!” she shouted at him. But out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of everyone in the village doing it and murmuring that damn title at the same time. All of Lexa's people suddenly were dropping to their knees on the ground.

All but Indra. Who stood stubborn by the helicopter. Clarke went to her quickly, “stop them.” she asked, motioning back to Lexa's people, “you are their village leader.”

“I can't.” Indra replied, “they don't do this as a village. They do this as one of the Clans.”

“No.” Clarke said, shaking her head, “I won't accept it.” She would not take Lexa's people from her, especially not right in front of her. She gulped tightly to keep the sickness down in her throat and went quickly through the crowd tugging at the shoulders of everyone she passed. But they wouldn't move. So she stood in the center, “I am not your Heda! Get up!”

They slowly started to rise, all of them thankfully. But she could tell by their posture it was only because she asked it. Nyko appeared then, at her side. His eyes took her in. He knew. He knew Lexa was not dead. He had helped arrange for it. So why -- “they won't bow to the one in the city,” he explained, “if they bow to anyone, let it be you.”

Clarke felt her blood turn cold, “don't...”

Indra stepped to her side, “I don't agree.”

Clarke felt relief, “thank you.”

Indra went on, “but that fact that I don't agree, doesn't matter.” she said in a level tone, “and I know exactly what Heda would have you do. She would have you accept this for what it is.”

“Indra.....” Clarke felt her blood run cold. She glared at Indra, she didn't have to tell her who was in that helicopter over there. It was _insane_ they were even _at_ this point of the lie...

“Take it, Clarke.” Octavia injected coolly, stepping into Clarke's sight as though she knew something Clarke did not.

“If you reject this, then you reject us.” Indra said with finality, in a hard voice that pushed Clarke visibly back one step. She could almost hear Lexa asking in her head, _what's it going to be, Clarke?_ She could almost feel her eyes on her from the helicopter. She could almost see her with her head covered, daring to peek over the edge of the window and she was damn sure if she looked, she would. So she couldn't look. She couldn't draw attention there. She couldn't afford that attention for approval. Instead she asked Indra, “don't make me do this.” She knew Indra was right though. She knew this was what Lexa would have her do, was probably _thinking_ she should do. She knew Lexa in this minute would be glaring holes into her head urging her that she should accept this vow from her people, to secure it, for both of them. Isn't that what they needed most? Loyalty? But it felt so wrong....

“It's already done.” Indra spoke her answer after some quiet seconds passed.

Nyko though touched her arm. She jerked her gaze to him, not expecting to be touched. He stepped back and said, “you are Wanheda.” as though it was explanation enough.

Clarke couldn't do anything. She couldn't even make herself nod. Instead, she gulped down sickness in the back of her throat turning it into an unsettling mess in her stomach instead. And simply just turned away sharply and decided to do the one thing she could do, the one thing she'd come for. She went back to where her mother was standing and stopped in front of her.

Abby looked around them all. She looked at the helicopter. She looked deep into Clarke's eyes and Clarke held her gaze and looked back. Abby asked in a low voice, “what's going on?”

Clarke kept her eyes level and her voice clear, feeling the stare of the entire village at her back, “I need you to get in the helicopter, mom.” she said at last, “you and Kane,” she looked up to him where he was standing quietly, but expectantly, nearby, “both.” she looked back at Abby, “and I need you to not say a word ..about anything.. until we get where we're going. I need you to trust me, mom.”

Abby stood back from her, almost in shock. Clarke could just see the question on her mother's face, _what have you done this time?_   That was something she hadn't missed at all.  She wasn't budging though. She squared off with her mom right there I front of everyone.

“Abby?” Kane spoke up, it made Clarke, and her mom, both look his way. Clarke watched as he curled a hand around Abby's shoulder and at the same time he looked up at Clarke.

Abby, at last, moved. It surprised Clarke when the move was to knot her fingers into Marcus' for just a second before letting them go. It surprised her more, even though her mom's eyes were filled with concern, and worry and fear but still she looked at the helicopter and then at Clarke and said, “okay. Let's go.”

Clarke felt most of her anxiety fall from her. She grabbed her mom's hand and started pulling her through the people of Tondc; her own people and Lexa's mixed into one massive group, quickly toward the waiting helicopter. She knew everyone was following her, and how it still burned that they were. She arrived at the door, “Monty?” she asked. He had just been standing, staring this whole time, as though wondering just what he had gotten himself involved in. She looked at him, “did Raven tell you where next?”

“Yeah... I got it.” He said slowly. The _you're sure?_ went unspoken between them but it was loud and clear anyway.

“Okay.” Clarke answered only, though. And he just stared at her as though he really wanted to put that questions into words. But if she did she couldn't say anything. Because she wasn't. She hoped he wasn't going to make her say it. And then, he didn't. In fact after a second or two he ended this stare-down by nodding, and turning, and opening the door. He climbed through it to go back to the cockpit of the aircraft. Octavia jumped in after him and Clarke took that second and looked toward Indra to find she was looking back at her. Indra looked back out at her village. Clarke tightened her throat and turned to find what she knew she would find the minute she looked; the people of Tondc staring at her as well.  She cleared her throat.  She had to say something. These people were _theirs_ and they were looking at her for hope, for a fight, for anything at all, "we will be back." Clarke decided on, we meaning herself and Lexa even if they didn't know it yet.  Including her was the only way she could engage with this.  She realised the engines were getting louder, or maybe she just noticed them and the way the blades were moving so fast they couldn't be seen overhead.  Clarke breathed in, and helped her mom get into the opened aircraft.  She helped Kane get up into it right behind her mother.  Then, grabbing the frame of the door, she jumped up into it herself.  

As she did she caught sight of her mom, staring and with a hand clutching over her heart. As the helicopter started lifting from the ground she caught sight of Kane staring as well. As the helicopter lifted higher and higher into the air she looked and saw Lexa push back her hood and greet them both with an impenetrable gaze.

Clarke closed the door.

Moving fast past both her mother and Kane she went quickly to where Lexa was, curled her hands around her shoulders and turned to face them both with almost the same challenge in her eyes. The she looked from them to Lexa, to find Lexa looking back at her. Clarke wove their hands together and looked back at her mom again.

It was too loud in the helicopter to hear anything said. But in this one instance, as Monty bore them toward the Mountain, they didn't need voices. They didn't need anything, they didn't need one damn other thing, make what mattered most, utterly, completely, clear.


	51. Face the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and they are back on the Mountain. Abby and Kane are just a little shocked. Demons are faced. Abby puts aside personal issues because suddenly, the world is in her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone.
> 
> I am sorry it took so long to update. Everything is new content now, and writing is difficult for me these days. Expecially this story, and I might not be at the top of my game with it still. Updates might be slow as a result of this but they will come.
> 
> I want to thank you all for the lovely, encouraging comments. I hope you are having a good night, and thank you for hanging in there with me. 
> 
> -DistantStar
> 
> \--==--

The helicopter settled on the mountainside.

The engines shut off with a whine until at last there was no sound at all, leaving the small space inside the skaikru vehicle simmering in uncomfortable silence the likes she often was graced with in her throne room in Polis. It didn't last long though. Like a tidal wave everyone started talking at once--

“Clarke, what--”

“Mom I--”

“Okay wait!” Kane injected, taking a short, amazed step their way. He seemed a little shocked but a genuine smile crossed his face that reached his eyes, “Commander, I'm glad to see you're still alive.”

“Thank you,” Lexa replied. Kane sometimes had a way of diffusing situations, she'd known this from the very start, “I am glad to see you are well too.” Then she took advantage of this silence to look over both him and Abby, “Obviously there are many concerns we must discuss here.”

“Yes,” Abby said, suddenly sincere if hurried to get back to other topics, “yes, _of course_ we're glad you are alive. But Clarke, where have you been and what---”

“Mom!” Clarke moved away from Lexa and blinked a few times motioning with her hands as though trying to control her temper, “I don't have time for this, right now, okay? I can't.” she said, she pushed past Abby and Kane and pulled open the door, “I just can't.” Clarke jumped down from the skai-kru aircraft and disappeared from Lexa's sight around the front. The negative energy she left behind was palpable. Abby was still staring the direction Clarke had gone, she started after her but Kane trapped her quickly by grabbing her arm. She glared at him while he rubbed his forehead. Octavia and the one called Monty seemed to think it was finally safe to come out from the seats behind where Abby and Kane stood.

Lexa glanced over at Octavia. It said enough. Octavia stepped forward and took both Abby and Kane, “I will get them inside,” she said, and when she did Abby looked at her in surprise, but Kane reacted thoughtfully about this though, tucked a hand around Abby's waist and steered her in front of him toward the door. Still, Abby looked back at Lexa, “Clarke?”

“Leave her alone,” Lexa answered calmly, “for now.”

Kane nodded when Abby didn't. Abby studied her a second more before getting out of the helicopter at Kane's prompting and then Kane jumped down after her onto the ground and both were gone from sight around the opposite side of the craft than Clarke had gone. It helped some, the little bit of space it left Lexa to breathe. But it wasn't enough. They were on the Mountain. Clarke was in a bad place here. Lexa felt guilty for the past few days when she had pushed her -before she knew her hands might require it- to talk about the Mountain. Because Clarke was so clearly not ready for this. Octavia was at the corner of her eye though, lingering while Monty, probably glad to escape the uncomfortable closed space, jumped down from the craft. Then it was just Octavia, “we will leave the door unlocked, Heda.” she addressed at last. Octavia's studied her for a second before adding, “take your time. We will wait.”

Lexa acknowledged this with a slight nod. Then Octavia jumped down from the craft as well, grabbed Monty by the arm, and disappeared from sight the way Abby and Kane had gone.

Then she was alone, and her usual calm failing her. Because Clarke had just pulled away from her, without a word, without a look, without anything. It was failing her because they were back at the broken place, right at that place that had ripped them apart, right at that place that for weeks after it happened had put fear into her heart, because with each beat it took she didn't even know if Clarke was still alive, if she had survived or not that night because even after the reports that the Mountain had fallen there was still no sign of the girl she loved. Her calm that she so easily clung to in all official capacities was failing her, because they were back at the Mountain. Lexa had to move though. That was the only way she could help Clarke. Even if she wasn't sure that Clarke wanted her close to her now she had to try. So she moved to the edge of the helicopter, and dropped down to the ground outside.

She went around the front of the vehicle like Clarke had. But she wasn't prepared for the cold jolt that rocked her when she saw Clarke standing with her back to her, in the exact same spot she had left her before. Nearly frozen in place Lexa wrapped her arms around her body and ground her teeth together quietly. This was painful. This was bigger than she expected. This was threatening to swallow them both. Not many things hurt her physically. She could bear them. But seeing Clarke like this ..did.

Lexa pulled in a little breath. She did this to her. She knew it. She lowered her arms and started forward. She would go to her anyway...in case...

\--==--

Clarke couldn't feel anything, standing there. She thought she had been ready to but she wasn't ready to face her mother. She had been wrong. But this was worse. Her mother she could understand even now, and forgive, even right now. But this was the spot everything had changed in. This was the sign-post that had changed so much of her life. She was dizzy here, and sick with a tightness locking her throat and her teeth together, and she felt like she was drawing air slowly through her teeth but not letting it out of her lungs again because she couldn't regulate her breathing now.

She felt defenseless, again, like she had that night, and like she had that night she felt so terribly alone. The lock of her throat was making tears form in her eyes that threatened and threatened to spill down her face. Last time she had stood in this spot Clarke still had just enough bitterness in her to keep them back in the corners of her eyes as Lexa left. But what she had done after was some of the most terrible and unimaginable moments of her life. And the tears spilled finally remembering that. She didn't know they had until she felt the warm tracks of them rolling quietly down her cold face. Clarke wanted to wipe them away before anyone saw them. But she couldn't. She couldn't because she wasn't seeing the door anymore. She was suddenly back in that damn room pointing a gun at an old man...

_Dad, I'll take care of our people.._

_None of us has a choice here, Clarke..._

_I didn't want this._

_Neither did I..._

A warm, callused thumb slid over her cheek, pulling her away from that awful place her demons had been taking her, instead of the gunshot she had expected to hear again. It trailed over her face again, drying her tears and Clarke looked up into sad, beautiful green eyes. Lexa's other thumb brushed back tears from Clarke's other cheek as well, “Beautiful One,” she whispered, sounding so different, so unsure, unlike the night they both had been last standing exactly where they were right now, “I am so sorry I had to hurt you like this.”

“Lexa..” Clarke somehow managed to speak, she didn't know how, she didn't even think her throat had ability to form words just now. But she had seen a similar river of tears hidden in Lexa's eyes that night. Clarke had ignored them though, because acknowledging them meant she would also have to recognize that Lexa didn't _want_ to leave her but she was just as trapped in the decision as Clarke has been. Lexa's hands were still settled under her chin and Clarke slowly curled her fingertips around them and held them right where they were, “I..” she took in a small breath that made her close her eyes and pause before saying it, “I know you had to do it. What you did doesn't hurt me anymore. It did. But not anymore. But what I did in there...” she slid her eyes over to the unlocked door and looked back at Lexa, unable to finish the sentence. Clarke felt her hands start to tremble a little and pulled them away from Lexa's to quickly drop them at her sides. But it was too late though. Lexa had already felt her start shaking. She moved in just a half step closer and slid her hands around to the back of Clarke's neck.  Lexa's eyes searched hers gently, “you had to do it too.”

“But you weren't even there.” Clarke countered quietly, her eyes started running again, and she cursed and wiped at the wet trails on her face. Clarke inhaled hard just to breathe but Lexa's voice stayed so damn soothing when she replied, “no, but I know you.”

“I did the same thing as you did,” Clarke condemned herself hard, “I did the exact same thing. I let one group of people -including people who trusted me- die to save mine.” she looked away. She pulled away even. She sank to her knees on the cold ground and stared at the door.  "Only I did worse.  I killed them."  Clarke sat all the way down.  Then silent seconds started to tick uncomfortably by.  She could feel Lexa watching her.

Then finally Lexa sank to the ground to sit next to her, “I'd only just left you. Just for a minute. And there was this man from the Mountain with the white mark of surrender with him. He said, you are the Outsider's Commander. I had to say yes. He said for me to take all of my army and walk away and he would let all of my people in the Mountain go. I asked about Skaikru. He said what I told you that night, that they weren't part of the deal.” She stopped there then, as though she didn't know if to keep going.. as though she hadn't even realised she had even started speaking until now, as if she hadn't even meant to start speaking.

Clarke reached across the small space between them and took her hand again, “go on.” she recognized somehow, even if there were bodies burning from radiation behind her own darkened eyes, that this had hurt Lexa more than Clarke knew. She recognized somehow, Lexa had to talk about this too.

“I knew I had to take it.” Lexa said with said finality, “and I _knew_ most likely I would be put on the tree for it. But it didn't matter to me, because I already died inside knowing even before I said it that my answer would be yes.”

“Lexa?” Clarke felt her eyes burning, but they were burning because they were now too dry, she wet her lips that had gone dry as well and felt the sting of self-loathing shimmer through her, “have you ever murdered children?” she turned her gaze to the door and stared at it hopelessly, “there were 26 of them, living in there.”

“Yes.. Clarke...” Lexa's answer was too quiet. It made Clarke look back at her because of both; the hesitation and also that she even said yes. She watched Lexa's jaw shift in that way that said she was going to say something that was not easy, “I have. I killed 37 of them before the Mountain Men ever got to the rest.”

 _Oh God.._ Clarke had forgotten. They had once been enemies. They had once been at war. They had once been killing each other right and left. This winded her...

“They were our age,” Lexa went on, “but they were just children the same, being noisy, crashing through trees, fighting among themselves. I thought the forest would finish them off before I ever had to step in. But I was wrong. There was a blonde girl keeping them alive.” Lexa paused here, “and then I met her.” Clarke looked over at Lexa, and Lexa's eyes were soft as she finished by returning to their previous topic, “I don't regret the choice I made here that night, Clarke. I can't. Despite where it has come, it was the right choice. What I do regret about that night is hurting you, is that you and the people you cared for so deeply, were the price. And if you lived through it I didn't expect anything other than for you to hate me for the rest of your life. And soon as I can we are going to make it so that choice isn't placed between us again.”

“I never hated,” Clarke formed the words slowly, just realising them for the first time herself as the weight of them formed into words, “I...” she paused a second in realisation thinking back on what she'd felt, “I was _past_ that point, I mean past being able to feel any emotion. I was just...” she tried to put into words the nothing she felt inside her where those words and emotions should have been, “I was drained out. The lack of feeling was addictive. I actually wanted it, to feel nothing, at all, inside and out. Then I saw you on the tree and,” Clarke remembered what it had felt like, seeing her beautiful Lexa limp and in chains like that, “hating you never stood a chance after that. But I was angry, Lexa, here.”

“And you were right to be. I am not sorry Clarke for what I did here. But I am sorry that you were the cost.” Lexa lowered her gaze just a little.

“But I forgive you.” Clarke added, watching her. The words made her feel lighter, saying them. Especially when Lexa looked up in surprise and for some seconds held her breath before nearly whispering, “I never thought you would.”

“Forgiveness, means letting go, of _all_ hope, for a better past. I heard that somewhere. Its an old quote.” Clarke said brokenly, she crunched her eyes closed and added what she'd been trying to put together since arriving at this door a second time, “I mean. There is really no better way to look at it. How can we create a better past when we've already been there?”

Lexa looked up and her eyes were clear, “we can't. But we can learn from it, for a better present and future.”

“So we learn from it.” Clarke felt strangely at peace now, even when she looked over at the door waiting cracked open for them. She reached over and took one of Lexa's hands in one of hers, and started running her fingertips over it, “I think ..I think I needed to come up here as much as you.”

Lexa smiled, she wrapped her free arm around Clarke's waist and settled their foreheads together, “maybe now,” she closed her eyes, “maybe now we can finally come down from this Mountain?”

“Together?” Clarke asked, because that was how it should have ended.

“Together.” Lexa confirmed.

Clarke inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out again, “I think I'm ready to do that.”

Lexa pulled back just a little then, so she could look at her. Clarke watched a slow smile spread across Lexa's face which made her smile too. Lexa was beautiful always, but when she _smiled..._ Clarke leaned in then, shifting to her knees she tangled her hands into silky hair and touched her lips to that soft smile briefly. She did it a second time and then slowly pulled back. Clarke glanced over at the cracked door, “ready to do this?”

Lexa answered, “yes.”

Clarke got to her feet. Reaching down she helped Lexa up to hers. Clarke turned to the door with Lexa's hand in hers. She moved toward it but was pulled back slightly when Lexa didn't follow her. Clarke turned to her. Lexa's eyes were wide and quiet. Clarke watched her look toward the door, “what is it?”

Lexa was quiet a second before asking, “what if it doesn't work?”

Clarke tugged her forward gently. This time, Lexa let her, “we won't know, if we don't try.” Clarke replied. She turned then and pulled open the door, “besides, my mom is the best doctor, well, probably anywhere.” And still, despite all her brave comments, she felt her gut twist a little and her skin turn cold when she stepped in that door – it was going to take time for this reaction to the mountain to stop, if it ever did. But she knew she could bear it and move forward again. She pushed the door open wider so the sun spilled in. Lexa came inside after her and said, “that is another concern.”

“What is?”

“Your mother.”

Clarke scrunched up her face. They started to walk down the long concrete corridor. The sunlight coming in behind them casting long shadows out in front of them. She knew that Lexa wasn't asking about Abby by way of capacity as a doctor, “we will work that out.”

“Does she have a problem with women belonging to women?”

“No. At least I don't think so.” Clarke sighed and looked at Lexa, “I think her problem is--”

“Me.”

“Lexa..” Clarke sighed, not knowing what else to say, because that single word Lexa conculded hurt and it also was terribly the truth.

“Its okay, Clarke, I understand.” Lexa answered. She looked over at Clarke and gave her a half smile, “She fears for you because..."

"Because you're Heda?"

"Yes.  And so do I.  But she will know I will protect you."

Her mom saw more in actions than she did in words though and so far Clarke knew that Abby didn't have a large set of things Lexa had done to judge by, yet. It figured that of the two of them Lexa was still somehow the more optimistic. They took the corner. She hadn't been in Mount Weather long before fleeing with Anya, but she still knew the way, “can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.” by the tone of her voice Clarke was pretty sure that Lexa thought it had to be something about anyone she might have loved in the past, and by the tone of her voice she could tell Lexa was open to answering these type of questions. Clarke put that little bit of information away for later. Because that had nothing to do with the question she was about to ask, “why did they do that?”

Like she thought, Lexa was thrown off guard, “who?”

Clarke took another corner, “the people at Tondc? I killed you as far as they are concerned.”

“My people,” Lexa answered, studying her as they walked, “are about to go to war against themselves. They are choosing sides now. They also know that you not only had my respect but my confidence as a leader. They know you have Indra's respect. You also have earned their respect on your own.”

They stopped at the door into medical, “but Lexa... they are your people.”

“And now they are yours.” she answered, searching Clarke's eyes. “Any one of those things, Clarke, would be enough for them to choose you. Because all they know about the one called John Murphy who is in Polis now, is that he just stood there and watched their village slaughtered.”

Clarke was firm as she stared at Lexa, “I am giving them back to you.”

“That is up to them." Lexa answered, "they still may not follow me again, Clarke, also,” she added before Clarke even found words to argue that with, “you have to remember that we can't just walk into every village and expect what happened in Tondc to happen again. They had special circumstances. Some places, some people and probably most, might react like Aden did. But the Trikru,” Lexa assured her, “they are a good start.”

“Lexa,” Clarke realised slowly, as she looked at her, as she realised just what Lexa was talking to her about, “you sound like you are building an army from the ground up.”

Lexa nodded, “it might come to that.” she looked over at the door then, and her lips twitched in an uncomfortable little line, and she looked at Clarke with that look that said, lets just get this over with. So Clarke sighed, not sure what else to do right now, so she pulled open the door.

The hinges were loud. She went in first. Lexa was just a step behind her. Not to Clarke's surprise, Octavia was still there standing stoically by one of the wall opposite the rounded one as though making sure her mother didn't escape her, and her mother, was of course, pacing back and forth. Kane was near Octavia. Monty, no where to be seen. As they heard the door open all three looked their way.

Abby stopped and turned fully to her, “Clarke.”

Clarke stopped too but she didn't let go of Lexa's hand, “mom.”

“Where...? How...? They... that name they call you?  What have you been doing, Clarke and..” she looked at her, and at Lexa, “and what is all this?”  It was evident there were so many things, so many questions Abby was trying to understand.

“This is Lexa,” Clarke decided to start with the one at the top of her personal list, “you've met her. Commander of the 12 Clans. More importantly though, she is my girlfriend.” Clarke couldn't help but recognize out of the corner of her eye the proud look that came to Lexa's eyes as they shifted toward her when she said this. Clarke took one step toward her mother and softened her tone and eyes, “and we need your help. I never planned on coming back, mom, because I can't do something you can. I wanted to come home one day when I was ready, just to come home. But we don't get that choice. None of us do. In spite of everything that has gone before you are the only person on Earth with the knowledge to help us right now. You are always talking about how you are _trying_ to help everyone, about how you want to help _everyone_. We can talk about everything else later, okay, because right now this is your chance to do that,” Clarke finally implored, “so will you?”

For some reason, out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Octavia and Kane look at each other and turn and leave. The door closed behind them with a louder than usual sound, or so it seemed. Clarke couldn't breathe. Her fingers were a little clammy she knew, both from being in side the Mountain again and from waiting to hear what her mother was going to say. But she tightened them a little more around Lexa's longer, warm ones anyway.

Tears finally welled at the corners of Abby's eyes as she whispered, “you're just like your father sometimes.” Abby wiped at her eyes and looked at both of them, “okay,” she said, “what's wrong?” As though putting aside differences for now, she looked between both of them.

Clarke in turn looked over at Lexa. Lexa stared at Abby for several seconds and Clarke could see the war going on inside her; the need to tell vs. the desire not to do so. But need, as usual, won out over want and finally Lexa stated, “I am unable to grip things with my hands.”

Clarke felt the words sink into the room. She saw them sink into her mother's head. She watched as Abby digested them beyond what more than just the medical implications meant.  But after some seconds Clarke was so thankful when Abby brought up only the medical problem, “nerve damage.”

Lexa nodded, “that is what Clarke says. She thinks that there is a way to fix it here.” Lexa's eyes slid over the room to take it in before settling back on Abby.

Abby strode over to them then, and reached for Lexa's free hand but Lexa was startled and pulled it back more out of surprise at the abruptness than anything else. Clarke felt her tense up automatically because she knew that Lexa wasn't used to people touching her. Abby also stepped back one step in surprise at the reaction. It took a second for the tension in the air to dissipate when everyone recognized the reaction was just automatic for Lexa. Then finally Lexa stared at Abby and held out to her the hand that wasn't twined into Clarke's.

Abby took it slowly. Clarke caught her lip between her teeth as her mom turned that hand over palm up and asked, “relax your hand.”

Lexa twitched slightly but did so. Clarke could tell by watching her that she wasn't as calm about this as she appeared to be. Lexa's breathing was a little unsteady. Expecially as Abby started to sqeeze Lexa's knuckles with her hand causing Lexa's fingers to slightly close as she did so. Clarke shouldered Lexa a little, gently, drawing a look from her, and Clarke offered her a little smile. Lexa offered her a fragment of a smile back.

“Close your fingers around mine.” Abby said next, “tight as you can.”

Lexa looked back at her hand in Abby's. And Clarke watched, hurting a little, at Lexa's attempt to do so. But she was only able to close them halfway. Abby let this continue a second before she let go of Lexa's fingers, “let's try both now.” Abby looked at where their fingers were joined and held her own hands out. Clarke, reluctantly, let Lexa go. She watched her mom take Lexa's hands in hers, “squeeze.” she said, “tight.”

Clarke could only watch Lexa try, aching inside for her, because Lexa couldn't do this. She ached a little because she watched the twitch of shame and anger at the edges of Lexa's eyes. It seemed like this torture went on for minutes. But at last Abby let Lexa go and stepped back. Lexa tried to lower her arms but Abby was faster and reached and stopped her, “turn your wrists.” she asked, “both of them, both ways.”

Lexa did so, and when she did so Abby smiled up at Lexa, which in turn made Clarke smile at Lexa too. Abby said, “that is good. You still have that.”

“Yes.” Lexa answered, rubbing her own wrists now, “can you fix the rest?”

“Without being more invasive? I don't know. I am guessing this is Axonotmesis, at least to the fourth degree.” Abby asked next, “How did this happen?”

“I was hung from a tree for a week.” Lexa was her usual to the point self.

But the brutal implication of what had happened to Lexa contained in the sentence seemed to shock Abby anyway. Clarke saw her digesting it, she saw her pushing aside all the questions as to why instead to ask, “by your wrists?” with some degree of shock still in her voice.

“Yes.” Lexa answered. She lifted her chin a little, “How invasive?”

“I would have to operate."

"You mean cut my hands open?" Lexa raised both her eyebrows a little.

"Yes." Abby answered.  Then she asked, "Do you have any sensation in them? Can you feel things with them?"

“To an extent.”

Finally, Abby motioned them further into the room with a hand. Clarke moved first, over to one of the beds and sank down on the edge of it. Lexa, more elegant of course, sat down carefully beside her. Abby in turn reached for the nearest stool and pulled it up to where they were before she sat as well, “these type of injuries,” she began to explain, “are usually the result from very severe stretch or traction. If it is Axonotmesis there is going to be damage to all structures of your nerves except for the epineurial covering. Injuries like these take a very long time to heal, usually about three months, but they do heal. Which is why surgery is not usually recommended until its been at least that long.”

Clarke jerked, “we don't have three months, mom.”

“I said, not usually recommended, Clarke,” Abby reminded, looking at her. That made Clarke sit back slowly but still she slid a gaze to Lexa. Abby did too, “without going into detail, surgery could make it worse. You could loose the function you do have.”

“Perform the surgery.” Lexa's jaw tightened just a little with the grind of her teeth, “I understand.”


	52. Tempered Steel

There was a raised metal table in the center of the white room. The lights overhead made it too bright. Abby had left a minute ago to get things ready, she had said. And even if they weren't touching Lexa felt Clarke standing right behind her next to the rolling tray of things her surgery would need.

“Lexa?” Clarke asked.

Lexa didn't turn, “yes?”

Clarke's hand settled on her shoulder, “are you okay with this?”

 _Was she?_ She was inside a Mountain that had once been the domain of one of her greater enemies and about to place herself in the hands of a Skaikru healer. Lexa turned at last and was caught by the beauty of Clarke's blue eyes enough that for a second she stopped breathing and for a second forgot what was about to happen. After a second though she cleared her throat, “what choice do I have, Clarke? If it was just me I would consider differently. But it isn't. One thing it can never be about is just me.”

“Well, for me it can be just about you. And we don't have to do this.” Clarke answered firmly.

“No, it can't. Not anymore. Tondc is a town full of your people, Clarke, both the Skaikru and people who were once mine.” She said these words and saw Clarke fall silent. Still, she was touched by Clarke's sweet statement and part of her wished it could simply be that way. Lexa held her ground though, “the Azgeda are in your people's abandoned camp as we speak, and Bellamy says they get stronger in numbers every day. Do you have any reason to doubt he is telling me the truth?” she asked. She couldn't help it that a small part of her wished Clarke might say yes-

“No.” Clarke's eyes searched hers quietly, “I don't.”

“Then it is not a small infringement,” Lexa explained. “If he's telling the truth then this isn't just a skirmish over a border town. The Azgeda are in serious breach of the terms of the Coalition and are staging for war. It is clear there are other Clans that could side with them the minute they see the Azgeda move and when they do, when that axe falls, it will be on Tondc and that will just be the start of it.” She watched Clarke draw in a small fast breath. Closing her eyes and keeping them closed Lexa turned away again. She breathed out slowly and opened her eyes, “can we just do this?”

There was a silent pause.  Finally Clarke answered, “Okay,” her tone was calm, understanding that this was what Lexa needed right now even if not what she wanted. Clarke moved in, reached for the front of Lexa's coat which caused her to turn. Clarke looked up at her eyes and then down at buckles of her belt. Her hands started opening them, “lets get you out of this.”

Lexa held still as Clarke stripped her armor from her, leaving her in just her black shirt, pants and boots. Her shirt was short sleeved, leaving her arms bare. Clarke then jumped up to sit on the table, “come up here?” Lexa moved to it and jumped up to sit on the side of it next to her. Clarke looked at her, “nervous?”

There was a little twist of anxiety in her stomach, “yes.”

Clarke smiled softly, “it won't hurt long.”

Lexa held her gaze for a few seconds, “it isn't the pain. You know that.”

“You can't just stay awake, Lexa.” Clarke countered. Lexa said nothing though. Of course Clarke would understand her hesitation. She was Clarke. The only one able to read her so easily. As if knowing those exact thoughts Clarke went on, “I'll be right here the whole time, I promise.” her voice turned reassuring and soft but anxiety echoed in her blue eyes. She looked at the metal table they were sitting on, “lie down?”

Lexa realised that second that Clarke was probably more anxious than she was, and she would do anything so that she wasn't. So Lexa pushed herself further back onto the table and turned and laid down slowly, still watching Clarke. Clarke shifted so she could look at her too, “not so bad, right?”

Lexa shook her head, “n-” But Clarke had leaned in, and she was cut off suddenly by the touch of warm lips down onto hers. It was intoxicating, it made her ache. It made her limbs weak and hard to work as she wrapped one arm around Clarke's neck and pulled her in closer to return the kiss. If this was Clarke's plan of distraction it was working. But with just one more soft kiss falling onto her mouth Clarke separated their lips and pulled her face back just a couple inches, “Lexa?”

Lexa still hadn't let go of Clarke's neck with her arm. She opened her eyes though, “Clarke?”

Clarke searched her eyes, “you do need to sleep for this.”

Lexa studied her a second before speaking, “I have stayed awake through surgeries before.”

“Not like this.” Clarke shook her head softly, “not like this, Lexa. We are going to be interacting directly with your nervous system. I said I'm not leaving, I meant it.” Clarke offered her a fragment of a smile, “I got you, okay?”

“You are this worried?” Lexa asked, she didn't have to. She could see the worry deep in Clarke's eyes and felt it in the arms that held her. And Clarke nodded. Which in the end caused Lexa to say, “then I will sleep, for you.”

“Thank you,” Clarke exhaled. A somewhat watery smile spread over her face for just a second before it was gone again as though another thought had occurred to her that she didn't like, “I will have to put a mask over your face. Mom was going to but I told her I got it. It has a general anesthetic that will help,” Clarke's face twitched a little, “close your eyes?”

Lexa paused for just a beat after that, then she did as asked and closed her eyes. She felt Clarke lean into her so that the sides of their faces were together. Then Clarke's fingertips were tracing over the other side of her face and Lexa couldn't help but turn her head a little into this. It felt so good to be touched like this when her face was to be touched by no one. Clarke's hand moved into her hair then and started brushing it back. She felt her shift back just a little and then she felt the smooth plastic of the mask settle carefully over her mouth and nose. Lexa opened her eyes immediately but Clarke's eyes were right above hers instantly and her hand was tangling their fingers together at her side, “it's okay,” Clarke said to her, “keep your eyes closed, you're okay.” Lexa listened, and closed her eyes. The truth was it was getting difficult to keep them open. She was relaxing into the arms of the one she loved. She felt Clarke's heart beating right against hers. She felt fingers smoothing through her hair. She felt warm breath against her throat as suddenly it was hard to stay awake...

Clarke knew the second Lexa fell asleep, because the tension coiled in the body under hers suddenly slipped away. She stayed there though, pressed to her, stroking her hand through her hair because she knew that out of everything Lexa did one of the hardest for her to do was to just give in to being vulnerable. But she did it for her. Clarke knew the door had opened a minute or so ago. She knew her mom was waiting at the edge of the room. She still gave it another minute though before finally sitting up. As she did she looked over at her mom who stood waiting with her arms folded in medical scrubs with her hair tied back. Clarke swallowed her nerves about this surgery and the possibility that Lexa could loose all use of her hands. The surgery would work though, she told herself. It had to. Clarke looked down at Lexa who was sleeping like a perfect angel with her brown hair spilling everywhere. The clear mask over her mouth had been hard to put there. But it was the only way this surgery stood the best chance of success. Clarke slipped the strap to hold the mask in place around Lexa's head. She set a kiss to her forehead and finally stood up, “she's ready.”

Even Abby recognized it, “that was hard for her.” she turned on a switch near the door, turning on the bright surgical lights overhead so they flooded down on Lexa. Abby came over to where Clarke was and stopped.

Clarke hadn't expect that from her mom. She answered, “she isn't used to not being in control.”

“You were very gentle with her.”

Clarke took in a small breath because that her mom had evidently noticed this startled her too. She looked over at Lexa. Lexa was pure steel. And deadly as such. But like all blades you keep close, you had to be careful with her. Clarke had learned this early on even if even now she'd never gave voice to it. The other side of that was knowing when to temper Lexa. It was a very fine double-edged sword.

But she wasn't going to say any of this to her mother when she wasn't ready to yet. So she just nodded in return but didn't speak. And when she didn't Abby just moved into the room and depressed a button on the side of the surgical table that raised it a little higher to allow her to work easier. Another button brought sections of the table out on each side like a T to each side to support Lexa's hands on. Abby found a thin blue surgical blanket and draped it over Lexa's form up to her collarbone. Clarke felt a little dazed suddenly that this was happening. That she was here in surgery again with her mother but this time they were on Earth and working on Lexa. She watched her mother gently take Lexa's left hand that was closest to them and move it into place on the support and turn it over. She buckled restraints around Lexa's fingers to keep them flat. That snapped Clarke out of it. She went to the other side of the table and took Lexa's other arm gently and set it into place as well but she did not yet put the restraints on.

Abby turned and sanitized her hands. Clarke came around the table and did the same even if it felt she was on automatic. That feeling ended when she saw Abby pick up a small device from the tray, “we will need infusions ready. We are going to be working close to her ulnar and radial arteries so we will have to type her blood.”

“Wait!” Clarke grabbed her mom's wrist right before she was able to turn the device on. It made Abby look at her quickly, but Abby was a doctor with apparent nerves of steel because she only raised her eyebrows in question and didn't jump at all. Clarke let go of her mother's wrist and looked over at Lexa then back at her to explain, “it won't match anything here.”

“This mountain had every type of blood available in almost unlimited supply.” this was said with medical practicality alone, but the fact of how all that blood got there still sent a shiver crawling coldly down Clarke's spine, “trust me, Mom,” she said, “I know. I know that better than anyone. But no, it doesn't.” She looked over at Lexa, “it doesn't have hers.” Clarke said firmly looking at Abby, “her blood is different.”

Abby looked confused but asked, “different, how?”

“For one,” Clarke said carefully, “it's black.”

Abby's forehead wrinkled in consideration. Clarke saw her trying to understand this. After a few seconds Abby asked, “what?”

“I've seen it. It's a mutation here on Earth. Only a few people have it.” she studied her mom. She thought that was a good way to gloss over it that said enough without having to go into detail, “but it is normal.”

Abby stared at her a second more. Finally she asked, “is it compatible with a blood type?”

“I don't know.” Clarke answered, “can we just ..do this?” she asked the same question Lexa had a minute ago.

“No.” Abby replied. Clarke was startled. But before she could protest or say anything Abby went on, “if she looses too much blood I can't give her a transfusion, and I am not about to let the Commander of the Grounders bleed to death on my table.” Abby turned away, “we have to wake--”

“No mom, wait.” Clarke grabbed her mother's wrist again. Abby turned again and Clarke spoke up before her mom stopped her, “she told you she was hung from a tree? Remember what they did to Raven, to Gustus? It was that, but worse. They cut her. They cut her to shreds for a week. Look at her skin closely,” Clarke reached and picked up Lexa's right hand and brought it across for her mother to see. The scarring had faded so much, so so much now that unless you were actually looking for it and knew what you were looking for you would never have known it was there. Lexa had been right in that, she wasn't going to scar as bad as Clarke thought. And Clarke had a feeling that soon the scars would fade away all together since the cuts had not been deep in the first place probably because of that same black blood. But that didn't matter right now. She waited for Abby who finally took Lexa's hand and examined the web-like net of small scars covering Lexa's fingers. Abby gently set Lexa's hand back down and looked at Clarke in what could only be described as sad disgust. Finally Abby asked, “her own people? They did this to her?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she took the deal with the Mountain. Blood must have blood. She paid with hers.” Clarke watched Abby grow silent, watched as it all sank in. Watched as her mother's posture changed to one of remorse and maybe ..maybe hurt for Lexa. Clarke couldn't know. But finally Clarke said, “she can make it mom. They bled her for a week and she still came back without a transfusion and she can't ever loose as much blood here as she did there.”

Abby's mouth moved to a thin line. She looked at Lexa. She looked at Clarke, “you're sure?”

“Yes.” Clarke answered, her throat thickened just a little as she looked over at her unconscious girlfriend and then back at Abby, “why do you think she's still alive? I took her from there.”

And silence.

Probably it was only a matter of seconds, a very few seconds at that. But to Clarke it felt like an eternity until Abby at last turned around and once more sanitized her hands and started pulling gloves over them. This did both to Clarke; fill her with indescribable relief and put the fear of God into her.

She watched her mom sanitize the area of Lexa's skin. But as Abby put a white surgical mask over her own mouth and picked up the scalpel from the tray of things Clarke quickly braided back her hair, sanitized her own hands and pulled gloves on. Covering her mouth as well she went to where her Mom was standing holding the scalpel just over the palm of Lexa's left hand. She made the first cut. Vertical, from the center of her palm and down. Clarke saw her mom stop breathing and pause for just a second at her first sight of Lexa's blood. Clarke remembered that feeling. When she saw it the first time her reaction had been nearly the same.

But Abby shook it quickly, or at least it seemed, because she got herself together and steadily kept going until she cut through the skin at the top of Lexa's wrist, being very careful not to cut a vessel or vein there, “median nerve is exposed, and ...” Abby dropped the scalpel into a tray of disinfectant and gently pulled open Lexa's skin, “so is her transverse carpal ligament. I need a set of retractors.”

Clarke was holding her breath. She hadn't known it until she felt it leave her lungs as she moved and got the small fork-like tools that would be used to hold open Lexa's skin. She turned and offered them to her mom, and realised she was holding her breath again. Abby took them from her and Clarke resisted putting her hands over her mouth to keep back her own anxiety. But she couldn't do that in surgery. She stayed where she was standing and watched her mom's eyes move as she worked, so carefully, on Lexa. Abby asked, “okay, I need the surgical scissors, Clarke.”

Clarke got them quickly and Abby took them from her without looking. Clarke stood back and tried to keep herself steady as her mom made the first cut through the ligaments in Lexa's hand.

\--==--

The quiet hum of machinery filled Lexa's ears. She opened her eyes in a medical bed in a cool, dim room and smiled when she saw that Clarke had fallen asleep in a chair beside her, her face buried in her arms folded on the mattress. It felt like only seconds. But it had to have been hours. The ache in her palms told her the surgery had to be over. She shifted ever so slightly, “Clarke?” She asked.

Clarke moved just a little, “Lexa?” she asked. She tipped her head up to look at her, offered a small, comfortable smile and whispered, “how are you feeling?”

She was honest, “my hands hurt.” she tried not to show concern about this as she slid them out from under the blanket and looked at them. There were no stitches, or new cuts. Just seamless skin. She looked over at Clarke in question.

“We used a skin-repair foam.” Clarke sat up, “so you don't tear stitches. Your hands will hurt for a while. Normally it takes days after surgery for nerves to bind back together enough but mom used a serum that will do that for now. It will dissolve as your own tissues heal but for now you should be able to--”

Lexa sat up and grabbed Clarke by the head and pulled her lips to her mouth. The kiss was urgent, something she needed to feel. She smiled into it when she curled her fists tight into Clarke's hair and held her in place for it. She felt Clarke's soft lips spread into a smile for her. This made her kiss her again and again teasing Clarke's pink lips with hers until Lexa felt she wasn't able to breathe anymore forcing her to stop. She pulled Clarke down into the bed with her -gently- by the grip she had in her hair until Clarke settled onto her chest. Lexa still did not uncurl her hands as she caught her breath and said, “kiss you properly.”

“What was that?” Clarke asked on her chest.

“You asked before, what the first thing I wanted to do with my hands was,” Lexa reminded. Lexa opened her fingers at last only to thread them through Clarke's sunshine hair, “the first thing I wanted to do, was kiss you properly, like I haven't. In months.”

Clarke shifted to sit up on the side of the bed and look at her, “of all the things a warrior would want. You wanted to kiss me?”

Lexa nodded, “yes.” She didn't know why this would be hard to believe.

A smile erupted over Clarke's face and she blushed pink. Clarke rolled her eyes and looked at her, “Lexa, all your kisses are amazing.”

Lexa felt a small smile creeping over her face with this compliment but it died quickly because the door clicked and opened, getting both her attention and Clarke's. It was Abby. She looked at them both. She stopped in the middle of the room and folded her arms, “I see you're awake.”

“Yes.” Lexa said. She pushed to sit and got up from the bed. Clarke moved back her chair a little and stood up.

Abby looked her over, “surgery was a success.”

“I know,” Lexa said graciously. She approached Abby and stopped just in front of her, “thank you ...Abby. If we are finished may I be cleared to leave?”

“I don't see why not. That's actually what I am here to talk about.” Abby said, “apparently Raven just radioed in. She is on the way back here in another helicopter? She should be arriving in a few minutes.”

“Okay that's good.” Clarke said, coming over, “that means we can go directly to the others.”

Lexa gave a small nod, “yes, and we can make our plan from there.”

“Wait, okay.” Abby began, interrupting them, “I have been patient. I still can be. But really,” she looked between the two of them, “helicopters? Lexa, you are supposed to be dead? What's going on?”

“The coalition broke the minute the Azgeda entered your camp.” Lexa explained.

“Mom,” Clarke took a step forward, “you and the others, are right in the middle of a civil war.”


	53. The Ring of Stones - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival at the Ring of Stones -Sometimes things are more than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys,
> 
> Here it is. The Update promised for so long. I had to delete the Author's Note I wrote that filled this spot (Chapter 53) and in doing so it also deleted all the lovely comments posted to that note. But I wanted to thank the people who left them, for the support and encouragement. It means a lot. :) So, thank you.
> 
> NOTE 2: I've decided not to do the chip here. I've decided to do something else around the idea of commanders/reincarnation. This next chapter will read a little reincarnation heavy. But I am taking it somewhere in the next part of this series. (Bear with me a little longer)
> 
> NOTE 3: On the topic of the next part of this series, we are nearly there. Only a few chapters left. But I will make sure that part 2 is easy to find.
> 
> xx oo to all of you.
> 
> Thank you for reading this, and thank you for hanging in there with me.
> 
> -DistantStar
> 
>  
> 
> \--==--

“We'll wait outside.” Abby spoke up. She looked from Clarke to Lexa and back again briefly before she switched the lights on overhead and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Clarke rolled her eyes just a little at her mother's antics, but then noticed that Lexa was still staring at the closed door with her usual unreadable expression on her face. Clarke had a feeling as to why, the tension rolling off her mom was not easy to miss. She spoke up first, “we should hurry and get ready. Raven will be here any minute.”

But Lexa didn't move, “your mother really does not like me.”

“She doesn't know you, Lexa.” Clarke wished she could deny what Lexa had said, and maybe one day she could, but not at the moment. She went to where Lexa stood, “but she will in time.” somehow though, she had a feeling that even if they didn't need her mother's blessing Lexa was all about honor and still wanted it.

“You believe this?” Lexa turned to her. The words sounded indifferent but Clarke had a feeling the question was sincere.

“I hope so.” Clarke admitted, although she couldn't say for sure. There was apparently a lot about her own mother she was still learning she didn't know about. As though on autopilot, she started toward where Lexa's gear and lay spread across a nearby table. Lexa had also turned to it and was reaching for it when Clarke did. They both stopped. Lexa looked up at her. Clarke stepped back, “sorry,” she began, “its just a...” she motioned to Lexa's things, “habit.”

“You say that word too much.” Lexa observed. She reached for her coat and pulled it on first, rolling her shoulders to shrug it into place and reached for the belt and brought it around her waist, “when you don't have to.”

“What word?” Clarke asked.

“Sorry,” Lexa clarified, nimbly she started closing up the buckles. Clarke stared at her a second, not sure what to say. Surely to apologize for apologizing would be the point she was trying to make. So Clarke just walked forward and closed the last buckle up. She looked up at Lexa as she did and saw a smile of amusement cross her face, making the gray feeling hanging in the air suddenly change to one that was warm. It was amazing how her smile could do that.

They hurried through the rest. Clarke was actually surprised how quickly Lexa could get into her things and was suddenly feeling a little inadequate about how she had been doing it until she remembered this was something Lexa did every single day. Last was the red sash and shoulder armor. Clarke helped her get it into place and closed the buckle. As Lexa turned and reached for her boots and started getting them on Clarke was quick to pull on her own things. She finished in time to turn and see Lexa reach briefly to check her forehead for the little gold circle.

Clarke assured, “its there.” she couldn't imagine what it would be like having to look an exact way in front of people every day. Lexa lowered her hand and gave her a thankful nod. Clarke could see all the words and wishes trapped behind her eyes in that moment. She also felt her pulse speed up just a little on its own because of Lexa looking like this, regal and beautiful at the same time. It always made her breath stop. And Lexa noticed. Clarke knew she did and flushed a little. She knew she did because Lexa's eyes moved briefly to Clarke's lips before their eyes met. It was enough to let Clarke know Lexa felt the same, and she was pretty sure that was the intention.  For now though they had people waiting. Lexa turned first toward the door, “we should go.” she suggested, walking to it she turned the handle and opened it just a crack before looking back at Clarke.

“Right.” Clarke agreed, maybe just a little faster than she should have. She looked quickly around the room to be sure they were not missing or leaving anything. Satisfied they were not she cross the room. Lexa pushed the door open all the way and stepped out into the dim hall. Clarke followed her. She knew there were no more Mountain Men here but instinct made her glance first up and then down the drafty, silent corridor anyway. Behind her Lexa let the metal door go, making her jump slightly when it slammed into its frame. She turned quickly but if Lexa noticed she didn't say. Instead, she stared up the eerie concrete hall at a steady pace. Clarke closed the few steps between them quickly to walk alongside her. After a few seconds Lexa announced, “we will go first to the Ring of Stones.” she glanced across at Clarke, “and then to Polis.”

Clarke glanced across at her as they walked. She looked ahead again as she asked, “are you planning on using the helicopters to take the City?”

“No.”

This surprised Clarke into stopping to look at her. Lexa stopped too, “trying to take Polis by force means war in the streets. Thousands of innocent people would die. I cannot allow that.”

Clarke hadn't thought of that. They started walking again. She asked, “so what are you planning?” She glanced over at Lexa to see the thoughtful, yet grim, look on her face. That was when it hit her, “you're going in after Murphy.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes,” Lexa answered anyway, “and to get as many of my people out that I can. We are storming the Tower, Clarke, even if we can't hold it.”

“Because holding it isn't what you're trying to do,” Clarke realised, “we leave with Murphy, exposing the clans to the truth. It will make them have to choose.”

“I hope they choose the coalition.”

Clarke, however, wasn't vague with her wishes, “I hope they choose you.”

“I am no better than Murphy to some.” Lexa answered levelly. Clarke only grunted. She wouldn't be so sure if knowing Murphy was anything to go by. She looked ahead because without even knowing how, they had arrived at the main door. It was cracked open showing a seam of light. She stopped and so did Lexa. Lexa moved first and pushed the door open, the crack of light growing wider, letting cold air in, revealing frozen ground and clouded gray sky.

Clarke stepped out first onto ice packed mountainside. Bright light blinded her and made her blink several times before she looked up into the sky and over the line of trees saw the black dot of a helicopter in the distance. Even from this far away she could faintly hear the beat of its propeller blades. She took a couple steps forward and glanced back at Lexa who came out of the mountain behind her.

“Clarke,” Kane's voice, from several feet to her left, made them both look. He was standing near her mom and Monty. Several yards past them still the Blackhawk that had brought them here was quietly settled. Octavia was some distance further away from them still and staring out over the hillsides. Kane smiled and moved toward them, “Commander, you're awake.” he greeted, he looked to where the dot in the sky was growing steadily larger before looking back at them again, “and right on time.”

Lexa answered an affirmative, “so it appears.”

Kane cast cautious glance back at Abby before looking at them again, “Abby says, civil war?”

Her mom stepped forward and asked, “but you can stop it?” she asked.

Lexa was honest, “we intend to do the best we can.” the noise of the helicopter blades was growing steadily louder and louder. As it closed and took shape at last, Clarke noticed it was much, much, larger than the helicopter that had brought them here. She touched Lexa's arm to draw her attention to this fact but Lexa had already noticed it as well. Then it was right over them, and Clarke found herself staring up at it against the sun. She winced, because her eyes were watering, as the helicopter started to land the wind and noise from the blades tore at her hair and clothes and through her ears. She tried to cover them but Lexa grabbed her hand and pulled her away from it, back against the door, arm tight around her waist from behind her as the giant helicopter at last, settled, on the icy mountain ground.

The engines shut off with a dying whine, cutting the noise and wind almost instantly, as the propeller blades on top twirled slower and slower until they finally stopped.

Silence fell hard where the noise had been, blanketing the hillside. Only then did Lexa let Clarke go. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother and Kane, and Monty and even Octavia looking up at the giant machine settled there in what only could be describe as awe. Clarke did as well. They started taking steps toward it and so did she and Lexa.

The doors on each side seemed permanently opened on this one. At least, a smaller door was. Metal housings also enclosed what she could only guess had to be landing gear just under each of the doors. Clarke couldn't help but notice how it absolutely dwarfed the smaller helicopter. She looked up at the door again as Raven appeared in it, took off the helmet she was wearing, tossed it inside and climbed down the helicopter to stand on the frozen ground near it, “I got tired of waiting.” she announced.

Clarke finally shook the shock that had taken over her body, “Raven?” she asked, looking at the giant helicopter. She took a few steps toward it before looking at Raven and asking, “where are you getting these?”

“At the helicopter store, of course.” Raven answered dryly. She looked up at said helicopter and added, “its called a Sikorsky. It fits forty people. You wanted to go into Polis,” she glanced over at Lexa. Lexa nodded and Raven went on, “with this, everyone can go. Oh,” she added, grimacing for just a second, “we are going to need coal, eventually. With it we can make kerosene and with kerosene we can make jet fuel..” Raven must have felt them staring at her. Because suddenly she looked at them and changed the subject back, “look, okay, this thing is a literal tank.”

“Thank you, Raven.” Lexa said with a sincere finality in her tone that made everyone look at her as she looked up at the giant helicopter, “it will do well.”

Raven looked surprised, after a second she even smiled and folded her arms, “you're welcome,” she replied, “so, then...” she looked at the Sikorsky and then back at them, “everyone get in?”

“We need to get to the others,” Lexa agreed, “there is much to discuss.” she looked over at Kane, “you and Abby should come as well. This concerns your people also.”

Kane replied, “of course.”

“You should ride with Monty,” Clarke suggested, stepping forward after hearing this. She wasn't sure she could handle stares from her mother over what was arguably going to be a longer ride. Clarke glanced toward the smaller helicopter in implication.

“Clarke,” Lexa called her attention. Clarke turned to find her staring at the mountainside door. She asked, “Lexa?”

“This mountain is yours.” Lexa looked over at her.

Clarke's gut tightened, not like it used to, but it still did, “I do not want it,” she said, without heat, without anger, just in a quiet tone as she looked up at the door as well, “not any part of it.” she looked over at Lexa, “your people were fighting it first. It's yours.”

Abby was about to say something, she stepped forward. But stopped the second Lexa replied, “I don't want it either.” she stared turned her gaze to the door again, “it has helped, yes, today. And I am grateful. But after everything it is a stain on my people.”

Octavia, stepped up suddenly, “I'll take it.” she said. As Lexa looked at her she added, “Heda, you have said it helped. Lets make it more than a stain?”

Lexa turned to her fully and looked her over, “you would do that?”

“Yes,” Octavia answered, then she lifted her chin a little and added, “for everyone.”

Clarke waited for Lexa's answer. So was her mother, and Kane, and Monty who was more looking at the ground and pacing back and forth just a couple steps probably wishing he wasn't there. So was Octavia, who held Lexa's gaze hard. Clarke realised this wasn't the first time she had noticed this about Octavia, and also noticed she was proud she could do so. Finally Lexa spoke up, “then it's yours.”

“Heda,” Octavia exhaled, besides that though she held herself steady, her only surprise shown in traces in her eyes.

Lexa went on, “you are Skaikru by birth, Trikru by alligence, there is no better person to serve here.  For your loyalty, for what you've done for all people, let this be your embassy and in doing so let it bring honor and peace at last to the innocent blood spilled here; on all sides, both recently and in generations past.  Let it be the common ground you are seeking for both ground and sky, that there might not be as much death between us by rending war avoidable.  Whoever comes to live here shall do so at their agency, but also leave as such agency allows.  But while they stay they shall live under your rules, and under one name of your choosing.  I trust you with these things, Octavia kom Trikru," Lexa paused for just a second as though she was considering something before adding, "you are now a lieutenant, as befitting anyone leading a new settlement."

Clarke was not quite sure, but it felt suddenly like she might have just witnessed the forming of another clan, or at least the groundwork for one. But she did know that she and probably everyone else and maybe even the entire forest felt like it was holding its breath. Seconds ticked past, she heard them from her dad's watch, and they seemed louder and longer than they should have. At last though Octavia tucked her chin in a small bow, “thank you, Heda.” she said at last, her voice neutral though, implying sure enough that not all had been forgiven but that she would follow through.

But it was enough for Lexa. Her silent eyes said she didn't expect forgiveness even as she put her hand forward. Still looking somewhat unreadable Octavia knew the important of this and reached out and wrapped her own hand around Lexa's wrist. The handshake was brief, but firm, ending quietly and quickly as it had started. Lexa let go first and glanced over at the Blackhawk, “you should go with Abby and Kane and the others.” she said, giving no explanation.

“Okay.” Octavia agreed, and moved away to go stand where Abby and Kane were waiting, somewhat speechless, near the smaller helicopter. Clarke, for her part, was pretty much speechless for a second as well when Lexa turned to look at her. But Raven was not. Raven, apparently, was more than able to talk and more than ready to go, “so,” she glanced up at the Sikorsky, “no one's going to take my ride?”

“We are,” Clarke said quickly, speaking up, implying herself and Lexa, “we are, Raven.” she had a feeling that Lexa had made this choice that they should be alone on purpose, and to be honest, Clarke, as of yet, had no idea why.

“Okay then, let's go. Unless you all have any other ..opening ceremonies.. to do?” she asked dubiously, to anyone. To which Lexa shook her head, “no,” she answered, “not at the moment. We need to join the others, now.”

Raven turned to Monty, “you, follow me.” she said to him, “and when we get where we are going don't land on the circles. They look like landing pads but they are not from what Indra told me.  Land anywhere else, but not on those circles.”

“Circles?” he asked hesitantly, speaking for the first time.

“Three of them. You'll see.” Raven reassured him. Then she turned away and struggled just a little bit because of her leg but managed anyway to climb back up the helicopter and disappear through the door.

A few seconds after that the giant engines of the machine switched on with a roar so loud to Clarke it felt like it slammed into the back of her skull like bricks and echoed through the mountains. She covered her ears. The propeller blades started up, increasing in speed and sending out turbulent gusts of wind. She looked at her mom. But Abby was following Monty into the other helicopter. After a second the sound of that engine started up joining the noise of the larger one. Everyone was getting into the smaller aircraft. Clarke turned and looked up at the large one in front of her. She went to it quickly, as Raven had, and climbed up the side of what she was assuming was a cover for landing gear before gripping the edge of the door and pulling herself into the helicopter's metal belly, a large empty and partially dark cabin. There were some windows, but not enough to properly light the entire space. She got to her feet and looked down to see Lexa was working her way up behind her. With the noise of the blades too loud in her ears to hear anything Clarke held onto the frame of the door and reached down for her. Lexa looked up in the blowing wind, grabbed her hand, and Clarke helped her up into the metal cabin.

It was like it was what Raven had been waiting for, because a few seconds after that, the plating under Clarke's feet began to vibrate and the engines hummed with just a bit more urgency as the helicopter lifted off the ground. She grabbed the frame of the door to steady herself, looking out. The frozen mountainside and trees grew further away, the higher they climbed into the sky. The door in the mountainside smaller and smaller until she finally couldn't see it at all. Finally, when they were at what Raven must have decided was high enough they turned and started westward, leaving the mountain. Land and trees slipped by, far below, grass and trees and patches of brown earth, like pieces of a puzzle. Inhaling deep to catch her breath amid the noise, Clarke finally pulled away from the door and turned into the cabin.

Lexa was just behind her, as though ready to grab her at any second, as if she feared she might fall out. Clarke gave her a watery smile and went to one of the windows instead to go easier on her girlfriend's nerves. They were in gray clouds. But at the edge of one, because sometimes through them she could look down and see trees and land that seemed to roll on and on and on, relaxing her, like the noise from the helicopter and the vibrations under her boots were also relaxing, like the twitch of Lexa's fingers suddenly as they settled at her waist as Lexa too, came up next to her and looked out at her world from the sky, relaxing with her into another blessed minute stolen between the two of them. Clarke wondered, as the landscape rolled past below if Lexa knew where they were. Because the minutes went past like the ground did, quiet and unspoken, one rolling into the next like one shade of green or brown rolled into the next, broken with the blue of streams and rivers. By now Clarke was quite sure that she had never stepped foot in parts of the forest far below.

This was confirmed when they flew over a part of the forest with faded specks of color mixed into the trees and Lexa smiled and pointed down at it in excitement. Clarke knew in that second that it was some village or another that she had never been to. Not Tondc. Tondc and all the other parts of Earth she had already seen were already far east of here. Later she would have to ask Lexa what the village was. But right now, she was just happy watching -and sharing- her girlfriend's excitement at seeing some place from the air she recognized. After some minutes the trees started growing thinner and thinner and Clarke could see the shadow of the helicopter far below on the ground. But soon they were gliding slowly downward and downward, until they were under the clouds and far below all she could see was a wide and -nearly- endless clearing. Nearly endless because on all sides in the distance was a thin line of trees. She felt Lexa's mood change swiftly beside her. She looked over to see what was wrong. But Lexa was just staring at the ground. Clarke looked back. And when she did, she felt her heart jump once under her ribs.

Tall fingertips of black rock appeared and formed two circles in the distance below, one set inside the other, looking out of place as anything ever could, reaching up toward the sky out of the icy ground. As they grew closer still she could clearly see the three rings inside the circles Raven had mentioned that looked like landing pads in the center of them. Together, with the reaching black stones, it was unnatural-looking enough to make Clarke's stomach turn a little. But she hoped it was just the helicopter ride and not what she was looking at below. Because the closer they flew, the sicker she felt; like they shouldn't be here. Or like something was wrong. She turned her eyes away quickly, and as she did found Lexa looking back at her. Lexa was calm. But as though she knew what Clarke was feeling, she gently squeezed her hand as if to reassure her and looked back out the window.

Ignoring the dry feeling in her mouth Clarke noticed suddenly that the helicopter had stopped moving forward. In fact, it had stopped over the rings. She knew without having to look that it had because for sure that was their destination and suddenly the helicopter started down, down and down. It seemed they were going entirely too fast compared to the other helicopters Clarke had taken a few rides in by now but then the landing gear touched with just a slight jolt that worked its way up her body. A few second later the engines shut off. A few seconds after that, Lexa unlocked their hands, “everyone is waiting.” she said to Clarke, searching her eyes, “Clarke I..” she began, as if trying to figure out a way to say something she didn't quite have a way to say before finding it, “stay with me. Don't be afraid.”

“Lexa ..what..?” Clarke began. But Lexa had already turned to move to the door. Clarke followed her.

They climbed down carefully from the helicopter, Lexa first, Clarke just behind her focusing on Lexa all the way down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aden and the kids approaching. Lexa had been right. Everyone was waiting. Out of the corner of her eye as she felt her way down the side of the helicopter she saw Lincoln and Allegany and Leona, Miller and Wick and Harper, and even Bellamy and Jasper trailing up to them at the edge of the group. Lexa was down first and turned and reached back for her and helped her down to the ground. As Lexa turned to greet the Nightbloods Clarke looked around-

-and felt as though she was kicked in the stomach and suddenly she felt atavistic and strange. She was surrounded by monoliths. Her brain had conjured up Stonehenge. But this wasn't Stonehenge, these monoliths were giant, black and clean cut so precisely that it had to have been done by some kind of machinery. Out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw her mother walk up. She saw Lexa still with the children and talking to her warriors, right beside her, not two inches away.  But she couldn't hear her.  Even if Lexa was right there, she couldn't hear her speaking..

_“This is it,” Amara looked over at her, standing quietly in the grassy clearing full of spring flowers, her small army at their backs. She felt the heat of the sun but she also felt herself shudder at the determined yet desperate, dark eyes of her girlfriend. She watched Amara look back at the opened doors of the abandoned facility buried deep in the ground... metal pristine rails circled each set of those doors.._

“Clarke!" Warm hands grabbed her wrist.  Clarke was staring into Lexa's worried face again where they were standing in the cold at the base of the helicopter with her friends.  Beyond them the shining rails surrounding the launch doors were long gone, replaced by low steps of stone only a couple feet high.  Lexa's hands tightened on her wrists as though in worry so Clarke looked back at her to find that worry was indeed in her eyes.  Clarke spoke, "I'm fine." she said.  But it felt like it was a lie.  And Lexa didn't look too convinced either.  Neither did any of the others there.  In fact, Lexa spoke without taking her eyes away from Clarke or even loosening her grip, "Octavia?"

Octavia stepped forward, “Heda.”

“Take everyone down to the third equipment terminal. We'll be there in a minute.”

“You heard her,” Octavia said, turning to everyone else, “get your things.” Octavia started away. Out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw the others start picking up different bags and weapons that had been brought from the other place. She watched Lexa inhale slowly and felt her set a hand to the side of her face, “Clarke....”

_...tractors and other heavy machinery were moving in the tree lines, clearing the land and pushing black stones across the ground toward the gleaming launch doors, cutting great tears into the freshly radio-active Earth. She heard her own voice, “the stones will be useful as shields when under attack.”_

Launch doors. Clarke felt her skin flashed cold and not from the weather and suddenly she was back again looking across at Lexa's worried face. Clarke felt her mouth go dry as she formed the words, “its a _missile_ silo.” She couldn't help the shock. She looked up quickly into Lexa's eyes for a denial or confirmation. Lexa paused before answering, “yes, it is. It is the Ring of Stones.”

“But I drew it.” Clarke pulled just out of her reach and took the gigantic circle of gleaming black monoliths in. They reached toward the gray sky, still looking like fingers wanting to catch the sun. The monoliths dwarfed people, helicopters -everything- easily. The ring itself formed of them large enough to completely encircle all three sets of launch doors with plenty of room left over, like silent warriors on guard.

Clarke turned back to Lexa and repeated herself, “I drew this, Lexa, at that house.”

“I know,” Lexa answered, her tongue wet her lips as though they had gone dry in the cold air, “it is what gave me the idea to come here, Clarke.”

Clarke turned again. The pits that were formed by the low stairs surrounding the launch doors were covered with large, cut circular stones. She looked back at Lexa and tried to reason, “its not in our Earth history...”

“It was rebuilt for our purposes after the bombs while we were still settling Polis,” Lexa glanced over the standing stones, “it was built as a lure, originally, to keep the danger away from there. The enemies we fought then are now allies, or were, until recently. Now it waits forgotten by all but a few of us.” Finally, she looked at Clarke again. Concern filled her eyes and voice, “are you okay?”

Clarke had to ask, “did you know I might recognize it?”

“I thought you might.” Lexa was truthful, “but I didn't know. So we flew here alone.”

“Yeah,” Clarke answered. If she were truthful, she didn't know what to think of this. It was all such an improbability but there it was, in front of her eyes. Maybe there was pictures of this place without an actual relation to what exactly it was? But that didn't explain the stones, since they had been moved into position after the bombs. Could they be familiar because of Stonehenge? Suddenly not wanting to think about it anymore, Clarke changed the subject, “we should get back to the others.”

Lexa, in turn, glanced the way they had gone, “I agree. They have been waiting outside all day. Apparently, Aden can't open the door.”

(tbc..)

 


	54. The Ring of Stones - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ring of Stones - Sometimes things just aren't what they seem...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE 1: I am not sure if it sent you the notice for Chapter 53 before this one, because I originally wrote an Author's Note on Chapter 53. (Meaning it might only see the new chapter as an edit, and not an actual update and not tell you the new chapter is there.)
> 
> That Author's note has since been deleted, with the text for Chapter 53 put in its place. It is a new chapter and is also part of this update that you should go back and read first for this one to make better sense. (Unless you have already read an actual Chapter 53 and not an author's note, in which case, please ignore this.)
> 
> NOTE 2: There is just enough Trigedasleng in this Chapter that it needs a rough definition list:
> 
> ai laik heda - I am the Commander  
> yu laik heda, ba yu laik ste arel - You are the Commander, but I still think you're beautiful  
> ai ge yu laik, arel won - I think you are, Beautiful One  
> yu laik heda gon wamplei - You are the Commander of Death 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> \--==--

_“Yeah,” Clarke answered. If she were truthful, she didn't know what to think of this. It was all such an improbability but there it was, in front of her eyes. Maybe there was pictures of this place without an actual relation to what exactly it was? But that didn't explain the stones, since they had been moved into position after the bombs. Could they be familiar because of Stonehenge? Suddenly not wanting to think about it anymore, Clarke changed the subject, “we should get back to the others.”_

_Lexa, in turn, glanced the way they had gone, “I agree. They have been waiting outside all day. Apparently, Aden can't open the door.”_

“What?” Clarke asked.

“He told me he tried but he couldn't. I told him one day he would.” Lexa turned then and started the way the others had gone as though the explanation was enough.

Clarke didn't remember that conversation between Lexa and Aden, but then, when they had first landed she had zoned out a little while when they had been swarmed by pretty much everyone. Clarke moved and caught up with her as they walked over the cold ground. It felt surreal and at the same time it didn't. She wasn't touching Lexa even if they were walking close together. Lexa looked at her and gave her a small smile of encouragement. They were nearing the others. Clarke could see them ahead, standing, or sitting on bags and boxes brought down from the helicopters. She wasn't sure where the new supplies were coming from. Then she realised that Raven and Wick had probably been making supply runs back and forth to the Base all day. Which was probably how Raven had found the new helicopter...

“Heda..” Echo and Allegany and Aden all said at once as they arrived at the intake door. It was the same as the launch door, even in comparative size, built into the ground, but without the ring of stairs around it. And since it was not rusted and the dirt of passing time obviously kept swept away it was clear indication that someone was sent up here to care for it from time to time. Abby approached to Clarke's right and took her by the arm, “honey are you okay?”

Clarke saw the cautious glances of everyone, of Lincoln, of Kane, even Jasper's face at the edge of the group was twisted with a fragment of concern. _Was_ she okay? Clarke wondered. She answered, “I'm fine,” she squeezed her mother's hand to assure her, “just dizzy from the helicopter, that's all.” She felt like she was lying. Because the more she saw of this place the more her stomach twisted into knots. Especially when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lexa walk out onto the intake door.

She stopped in the center, causing the whole world around them to feel still. Causing Clarke to hold her breath as though she expected ..something. As though she expected the doors to open and Lexa to simply be swallowed up. That thought stuck in her head. The vision of the doors sliding wide, the dark drop of tunnel beneath. Lexa plummeting into it without so much as a scream... Clarke's brain wouldn't let the image go.

But that wasn't what happened.

All Lexa did was reach down and touch her hand to the old metal for a second. Then, slowly, she started backing up off the door, “move away from it.” she said, looking at Bellamy and Echo, Lincoln and Octavia and all the night-blood kids gathered at one side of it. The children wasted no time. They moved back fast. Bellamy and the others were more slow but listened. Lexa stepped back off the door to stand next to Clarke.

There were vibrations deep under the ground.

Clarke felt them grow in intensity until they were just under her feet.

Her mouth went dry as the loud sound of grinding gears and locks clanging loudly as they were opened erupted under the metal door filled the air. It cracked apart with a hiss and then with a loud squeal of hinges the doors opened like a book and dropped with a loud clang on each side onto the cold ground, revealing a dark, stairwell that dropped into the ground in front of them. All she could see of the first few steps was a tight twist of metal stairs going down.

Everyone looked at it. Then, almost at the same moment, all of the Skaikru including Clarke looked at Lexa. Under her breath Clarke asked the question they were all wondering, “how did you do that?”

Jasper spoke up dryly, “it sure as hell isn't magic.”

“It isn't, I assure you.” Lexa replied stiffly, glancing at him. Her gaze was softer but still echoed her regular Heda-impassive when she looked back at Clarke and studied her eyes, “your blood metabolizes radiation,” she turned and glanced at the opened intake door before looking at Clarke again, “mine utilizes it.”

Abby stepped forward, her face paler than usual, “that's impossible.”

“Is it?” Lexa asked, looking at Abby. When Abby said nothing more though Lexa turned away and started forward, down the staircase of that seemingly bottomless hole.

Clarke took only a second to react, only a second to go after Lexa and start down those stairs after her and catch up to her quickly as she could.  But even as the dark spiral swallowed her up and her eyes adjusted and she could se Lexa just a few feet ahead of her through the dark, taking the stairs down quickly as possible without running, Clarke still couldn't shake the feeling of dread, the feeling of the little hairs rising up on the back of her neck.  Not when she knew where the first landing of the staircase was just below them and not when she knew they were already halfway down the stairwell.

Stopping on that landing Lexa reached out and flipped on several switches on the wall the stairs was attached to.  Artificial lights came on, flooding the place and making Clarke blink rapidly in the suddenly blinding light.  When her vision cleared she saw warning signs on the wall, even here in the stairs.  Also there was a diagram of where they were.  She traced her fingertips over it; equipment terminal three was a long cylinder going deep down into the ground.  There were all kinds of interconnecting tubes leading to different places; power facilities, a control room, her hand drifted over them before stopping on, "Launcher Two?" she looked over at Lexa, "it really is a missile silo." she rephrased herself from earlier, "Lexa, you brought us to a missile silo?"

"There are no missiles here," Lexa lowered her hand slowly and turned to her, “and yes.” she repeated herself from earlier as well.

Clarke couldn't find words. Lexa never ceased to amaze her, but this? This was something more. It wasn't anger. It was just a quiet, stunned sensation that said there were still so many things she didn't know about Lexa, not to mention; much much less she knew about Heda. And this place was definitely more the part of Lexa that was Heda. She also realized suddenly that she better get used to things coming up out of no where like this. Standing there Clarke knew that she probably could have just kept staring at her girlfriend who was staring just as quietly back at her; waiting for some kind of reaction, but the others were coming down the stairs and nearly on top of them. Kane appeared first. His excitement as he met up with them was written all over his face, “its a missile silo.” he said in amazement.  Of course of any of them, he would be one to place it just by the doors and stairs.

“It is.” Lexa answered again. Even though he didn't know that was the third time she'd repeated herself. She started on down the stairs. Clarke kept up somewhere between Lexa and Kane as Lexa called back to him, “a Titan Missile Silo specifically.” Lexa looked around at the cold metal pipe walls as if assessing them before adding, “there are three launchers in this complex.”

“Did they..” Monty was pushing up alongside Kane now from behind the others as they exited the stairwell into a metal corridor made of pipe, “I mean, did they help launch the bombs from here?”

But it was clear that Lexa was done taking questions and the walls reminded Clarke a lot of the Ark. They stopped suddenly in the middle of the corridor. It dawned on Clarke as she glanced around her at everyone catching up to them that it was a four way intersection. Once everyone was there Lexa cleared her throat, “behind me is the corridor that leads to Silo 2. Housing is set up there,” she looked at everyone briefly, “find a place to stay in the second or third balcony level and take your things to them. My own quarters are on the first.” she added in as a way of information people might need. After just a single beat she added, “directly down the corridor to my right is the old Control Center. We will meet up again there in a half hour for a council of war.” Lexa paused as though waiting for protest. When none came she added, “all of us. Now go. Find a place here to stay, and be ready.”

Everyone started to shuffle a little before looking at each other, breaking up and starting to move away either back up the metal tunnel they had just come from to retrieve things if they had forgotten to bring them down the first time, or up the corridor at Lexa's back toward the quarters she had suggested.  Abby started to walk that direction, to find a place to stay, passing Lexa as she did.  But suddenly she stopped and turned around, "Clarke?" she asked as though waiting on her suddenly. 

Clarke wasn't ready to respond though.  She hadn't been expecting it and barely had time to look up before Lexa had turned around swiftly on Abby, "Clarke stays with me." She said, then, as if she caught herself or thought that maybe Clarke wouldn't want this she looked over at her to ask, "Clarke?"

"I'm staying with Lexa." Clarke confirmed.  She didn't see it at all on Lexa's blank face but Clarke was sure she could feel her want to smile, especially when she moved up to stand closer to her.  She also felt her mother's surprise nearly filling the metal tunnel.  But she wasn't angry with her mom.  Especially not when she had just helped them. But was just not ready to argue with her over every little thing. Especially over things like where she would sleep.  So Clarke softened her tone just a little, "its alright, Mom.  Go with Kane," she saw him reappear out of the corner of her eye, this time with several bags and wraps of things, "and get settled in.  I'll see you in a half hour."

\--==--

The Balcony Levels of the Launch Silos had been rebuilt to add floor space on each level across what had once been the silo well. The top level of Launcher 2 was no different, with a small portion of the original balcony remaining where it connected to the top of the metal stairs. Clarke followed Lexa all the way up here. The combined silence felt like a protective barrier around them both that for a moment let the world be still. This balcony though, unlike the others, had just one double door that was delicately carved wood that fit sharply in contrast into a metal frame. There were no guards around it at the moment. There were none to post there. Lexa walked right up to it though, turned the handles and pushed it open inward just enough for them both, one after the other, to slip through before closing the door behind them.

The room was utterly dark inside. Clarke stopped instantly because she couldn't see her hand in front of her face while she felt Lexa move away from her further into the dark. It took her a second to realise what was different about this room than the rest of the Silo, “Lexa?”

“Clarke?” from somewhere closer in the dark than Clarke had thought, still not right next to her though.

Clarke answered, “you don't have any lights in here.” They had turned on automatically everywhere else they walked.

“I do,” Lexa answered, and as she said it a spark appeared in the dark that turned into the flicker of a candle coming to life as Lexa lit it, casting Lexa's face and only part of the room around them into a dim golden glow because, apparently, the room was too large for one candle to light up the whole space.  Lexa set the candle down on a table near the door.  She turned and looked at Clarke, "but they are set to stay off.  I prefer natural light."

Clarke couldn't help her smile, “right.”

Lexa moved away then to a square table in the center of the room to light another larger column candle. It reminded Clarke a lot of Lexa's war table, but empty. The new light expanding the gentle glow to the room. The entire wall to her right was filled to the brim with old books and trinkets, in large dark oak shelves that rose from ceiling to floor. Centered by these shelves, was a large dark oak bed of the same wood, the square column-like posts carved with the same intricate details as the outer door, supporting a rectangular framework that sheer drapes lay across to pour down around the sides of the bed like rain. Fur carpets were to each side of this bed covering the flagstone floor. A cold fireplace was in the wall with the door, the fur rug between it and the bed. The far wall was curved as it was the outer wall of the silo, but up against it were some leather couches and chairs framed around a low glass table full of extinguished candles. On the wall opposite of the bed was a opened arch door. Whatever was beyond though it stayed dark. Next to that door was a closed set of double doors, carved like the first and the bed. Lexa lit another candle and set it on the table as well. As she did, Clarke looked up. Part of a large metal dome was in the roof of this room, probably the rest of it extended across the other rooms and stairwell because, Clarke realised looking at it, it was actually the bottom of a launch door..

“We don't have a lot of time.” Lexa spoke first, quietly, her voice drawing Clarke's attention back. Lexa stood with her hands quietly at her sides near the foot of her bed. Clarke felt a lump start in her throat as she answered, “no.”

Lexa felt like she could hardly breathe. Determined suddenly she went around the side of the table and reached for Clarke but right as her hand curled around the back of Clarke's neck to pull her close an insistent knock sounded on the door. They both stopped. They both looked over toward it. The knock sounded again. Lexa reluctantly lowered her hand. She took a step back, “enter.” She called, frustration in her voice barely hidden.

The door opened. It was Lincoln with their bags, which these days seemed to be becoming a familiar picture. Behind him though was Octavia with large roll of leather Clarke could see the end of Lexa's sheathed sword poking out of. It was clear Lincoln could feel the tension in the room and knew they were interrupting but if Octavia could she didn't care, “thought you might need these.” She pushed her way past Lincoln and into the room.

"Put them there,” Lexa glanced over, “on the bed.”

Octavia was quick to do so, smiling smugly at Clarke as she passed her with a look that basically said; yup, she knew. Clarke just folded her arms and tried not to roll her eyes. Lincoln brought the bags over and left them as well. Then went back to the door with Octavia. Lexa asked, “did you need anything else?”

“No. Don't think so.” Octavia answered, glancing at Lincoln before asking Lexa, “do you heda?”

“No,” Lexa answered, “and thank you. We will see you downstairs. Be ready. We will be leaving for Polis immediately following the meeting.”

"Heda." Octavia answered.

"Heda." Lincoln said. 

The two turned then and left the room nearly as loudly as they had entered it.  Octavia, she was sure, slamming the door closed with a loud bang behind them. 

Lexa exhaled loudly, after they left. For a second she continued to stare at the door because she sure that she heard them burst into laughter on the other side of it. Clarke tried not to laugh with amusement despite herself and offered, “they are quite a pair.”

“Yes, they are.” Lexa agreed. She turned around, "is this how its going to be, living with you?" but the accusation carried a note of dry humor and a lift of Lexa's eyebrow.

Clarke couldn't stop her smile anymore, or snort of laughter. Lexa felt her heart burst hearing it and she grinned as well before she could even attempt to stop herself. As their smiles faded though she felt herself hating what she would have to do next, break that brief minute of happiness by getting ready for war.  But they had no time.  Lexa sighed.  She looked at Clarke a second longer, enjoying her smile and planning to take it with her when she needed it before turning and walking over to the things left on her bed. Clarke followed her with her eyes, watching Lexa open up the roll of leather and slowly pick up her sword. Her smile faded to a quiet one as Lexa studied the sword in the candlelight. Clarke moved to the bed and started unpacking one of the bags, “how are your hands?”

Lexa looked over at her. After a second she began the process of attaching her sword to her belt. When it was done she drew the blade and looked it over, and looked across it at Clarke, “they still hurt.” She sheathed it again and changed the subject, “you will need your gun.”

Clarke frowned but took it out of the bag, “its here.” It was still in its holster.

“Put it on.” Lexa instructed.

Clarke was about to protest, but, looking up at her she realised Lexa was very serious about this. So quickly she worked the holster on, getting the gun into place at her thigh. Lexa picked up the bone-handled knife from the roll of things Octavia had brought in, “and this.”

Clarke took it and attached the sheath to her other thigh. As she was finishing Lexa asked, “are you any good with it?” Clarke looked up, normally, she might have been offended, but she knew Lexa wasn't trying to offend at all. She was concerned. So Clarke straightened and answered, “I've killed panthers with a knife.”

Lexa's eyes sparked with the reassurance, “good.” She picked up her knife. She curled her fingers around it tight. She put it back on the bed and reached instead for the holster straps and started buckling them one after the other around her thighs. Clarke just watched her. They were heading into battle. She should be afraid of that. But instead she felt a sort of relaxed calm, and Lexa always made her smile. Clarke reached into the bag again, she found her sketchbook, Lexa's precious jar of primrose oil. Clarke took these things out and went and set them on the table. She looked back in time to see Lexa buckle her dagger into its sheath, and then dig through the bags herself as though looking for something. She must have found what it was because suddenly she stopped and stood up, taking something out of the bag as she did. “Clarke?” Lexa turned to her. And Clarke felt her heart stop. Lexa was holding her warpaint box. And looking at her, looking at her with quiet, searching eyes.

And Clarke felt numb, suddenly, when she realised what those eyes were asking. But she went forward anyway, took Lexa by the wrist, and pulled her into the candlelight to stand near the table. She took the box from Lexa's fingers. Opening it up she set it on the table next to them. Lexa was watching her, watching as she took the small glass jar out of its red velvet lining. She could feel her watching as she opened it up and set it on the table. Clarke said nothing though. Even if the intense gaze made her heart beat a little faster, even if her heart was flickering like the candle casting them in gold light. Clarke wet her thumbs first, one after the other. Finally, with paint running in slow drips down her wrists she looked at Lexa again and whispered, “close your eyes.”

Lexa's nod was almost imperceptible. But soon as she closed them Clarke found herself missing that intense gaze. But the velvet feel of Lexa's eyelids under both of her thumbs as she brushed them across them and into Lexa's hairline took its place. Lexa's mouth parted just a fragment, just enough so Clarke could barely see the whites of her teeth, as she tracked her thumbs over Lexa's face again and then again; smoothing out the black paint until it was wide enough, until it was dark enough, until she had used all the paint on her thumbs. She pulled her hands back for more paint. Lexa's eyes opened. But she said nothing. She didn't have to. Clarke dipped her fingertips into the jar. She turned back to find Lexa had already closed her eyes. She turned back to find her standing stiffly, like a good warrior would. But when Clarke reached and touched the paint to her face she felt that Lexa was actually trembling.

That made Clarke's breath catch. That made her fingers stop still on Lexa's face, paint dripping down her wrists. Which made Lexa's eyes open slowly to stare deep into hers. Clarke stared back. She saw the warrior in there. But mostly she saw the burn consuming the girl she loved. She knew enough by now to know that this ..was.. an incredibly intimate act. Clarke swallowed hard. She didn't take her eyes of Lexa's, as slowly and carefully, she trailed her fingertips down her face. Lexa inhaled deeply when she did this. Clarke didn't stop, she did it again, forming the tear marks perfectly, filling them out beautifully, narrowing the ends of them with her fingertips, until they were perfect. Until she stepped back to admire her handiwork. Lexa, looking how she had when she had first met her. Lexa, the ruthless commander. She was beautiful. Clarke hadn't realised how much she had missed seeing her in warpaint. Finally she made herself whisper, “you're done.”

Lexa's eyes were a contrast to the black paint when she looked Clarke over, “you're staring.”

“You're stunning.” Clarke admitted, she hadn't meant to let the words slip out, but they had, and she blushed. So she shrugged and decided to go ahead and admit the rest, “beautiful.”

“ai laik heda.”

“yu laik heda, ba yu laik ste arel.” Clarke assured, she went to the bed and reached into the bags. Sure enough there were still plenty clean rags to be found. She started wiping the remaining paint off her hands.

An arm wrapped her waist quickly. And just as quickly she was pulled back into Lexa's chest. Then Lexa's voice was whispering trigedasleng in ear, “ai ge yu laik, arel won.” Clarke turned around in that hold. They both suddenly went still. Lexa's eyes moved over her face quietly. Lexa spoke up, “let me do your paint?”

“My..” Clarke hadn't thought of that. It was done by the people in Lexa's clans, she knew, when they went into battle. She was honored by the idea. But she had to answer, “I don't have a pattern.”

“You will in a minute. If you would let me.”

Her breath caught hearing this. So it was all she could do to manage a nod.

Lexa moved away from her. Clarke watched her go to the table before she turned and much like Clarke had done, took her by the wrist and pulled her close. The jar was still open. Clarke watched Lexa wet her thumbs with it. She straightened, turned to Clarke, and lifted her hands. Lexa's voice was soft, “close your eyes.”

Inhaling audibly, Clarke did so. She snapped her eyelids closed, tight. Lexa hadn't touched her yet. Instead she said, “relax, Clarke. You're squeezing your eyelids too tight. It will cause gaps in the paint.”

“Right.” Clarke answered, “gaps.” Wetting her lips that had gone dry, she exhaled and then relaxed. Soon as she did she felt the touch of fingertips at her temples, smoothing and spreading wet paint skillfully inward toward her eyes. Clarke could suddenly understand why Lexa was having trouble breathing now. The gentle glide of Lexa's wet fingertips over her face was nearly too much. It made the weight in the air heavy, unlike the caress of Lexa's fingertips sweeping in under her eyelids. Clarke had to speak, to say something, to ease everything or she'd loose her mind, “you're good at this.”

“Shh, Clarke,” Lexa's fingers tracked back over the wet paint again toward her temples, probably to make it darker and thicker and smoothing it into her hairline, “talking will ruin it.”

Clarke bit her lip, “sorry...”

“Clarke.” Lexa warned, but her tone held no anger at all. Just a calm reminder. So Clarke decided just to hold her breath and hold still. If she could considering the feel of Lexa's fingers sliding back and forth near her eyes, over her temples, to her hairline and back again, leaving paint on her face everywhere they touched. Briefly Lexa's fingertips grew still on her skin. Fingertips switched to thumbs and glided back once more into her hairline on each side. There finally to stop. There to pause for a second before at last puling away from her face completely. Lexa's voice was a whisper, “yu laik heda gon wamplei,” she said, and Clarke slowly opened her eyes. Lexa stepped back from her and lowered paint blackened hands, “Klark kom Skaikru, Wanheda.”

Clarke had never heard it used so formally. She looked up to see Lexa's eyes transfixed on her face almost to the point where it seemed she was unable to breathe. Lexa knew she had noticed it too because suddenly she inhaled deeply and turned and quickly went to the bag and started wiping the paint from her fingertips clean with the cloth, “it is what you're known by.”

“Lexa,” Clarke found her voice. Because she thought suddenly that Lexa might be fearful she would be upset with what she said. She didn't like the title. No. But Lexa was quite correct. It was what she was known by. She herself had used it. When she had to. Lexa turned to her. Clarke spoke up, singling out the part she could be sure of, “whatever pattern you gave me? I'll wear it proudly.”

Lexa didn't answer verbally. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder to indicate a mirror near the curved wall. Clarke glanced at it. She looked at Lexa again before walking over to it slowly. Stopping in front of it she was stunned by the image of herself it reflected; dressed in black, including the long coat, blond hair undone and framing the perfect black mask Lexa had drawn around her eyes with small tips that pointed inward toward her nose. As she was looking in the mirror she saw Lexa come up behind her, in warpaint and leather, armed with steel, strength and stealth. Clarke watched in the mirror as she stopped right behind her and curled an arm around her waist. Lexa was looking back at her in the mirror, “its time.”

“Yes.” Clarke answered. Still, she put both her hands over Lexa's around her waist. Because now, when it hadn't earlier, her heart started to beat just a little faster that they were going into Polis. They were going to storm the Tower there. They were going into a fight. They were going into a place where many wanted Lexa dead just because they would see her still alive.

She turned quickly in Lexa's arms, grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her soft mouth quickly to hers. Clarke felt Lexa sigh in surrender when their lips touched. She brought her other hand up and grabbed the front of Lexa's coat like an anchor and kept kissing her, again and then again, determined to steal every breath escaping her. She felt a hand tighten quickly at her waist and another tangle into her hair. She felt wet, urgent lips started kissing back, mixing into hers, creating soft sighing sounds of trying to breathe between them. Clarke pushed for more. But even if Lexa's lips stayed a soft and sweet swollen wall against her tongue, it was enough. But then it was reciprocated, and Clarke felt her knees go weak. Lexa's tongue was like warm, soft velvet on hers, in her mouth. Fingers of both hands came and gripped her jaw. Lexa pulled back, ending the kiss with a final touch of her lips onto Clarke's. Eyes just inches from her own Lexa whispered, “we have to go now. We have to be there before the others.”

Clarke only nodded. Just then, it was all her body could manage because she was still just a little breathless from the kiss Lexa had unleashed. They looked at each other only a second longer before quickly moving into each others arms. Arms tightened and held. Faces and breath buried in shoulders and different shades of hair. They embraced hard. Clarke felt Lexa pressing into her tightly so she tightened her arms even more. In fact, Clarke pressed into Lexa until armor and buckles and bits of metal were pressing into her skin through her own clothes. Lexa's hands were still tangled in her hair on her back and then her breath was at her ear, “don't be afraid for me, Clarke. I need you most to focus on what you are doing.”

“Okay,” Clarke answered against her shoulder, “you too.” Her hands tightened though, on Lexa's shoulder blades.

Then they parted. Slowly but surely, each releasing their death-grip first before slowly unlocking their arms, letting each other go, and taking a step back. War was brutal. They both knew this. They both had fought each other mercilessly before. So they knew it too well. Clarke realised though, standing in that moment, she had never seen Lexa actually fight. She had seen her throw a knife through someone's wrist from a good distance. She had seen her impale people with her sword, and she had seen her ready to use it many times. But she had never actually _seen_ her fight. And suddenly, it was as if Lexa knew what she was thinking. Because she smiled at her quietly as though she had no fears for herself. Then she turned and moved toward the bedroom door, spine straight already; Heda firmly in place as she turned the handle and looked back. Clarke went to her quickly. Lexa pulled open the door and bright light fell into the room. Lexa slipped out into it. And Clarke followed her out.


	55. Things that Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting before the war, the 'calm before the storm'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a/n: please check out my Tumblr for **more** of my writing.)  
>  adistantstarblog.tumblr.com

Hello my friends,

First my deepest apologies for having been gone for so long. My dashboard tells me that I have not updated this fic in quite nearly a year. That being said, it was quite a year. 307 to me was a destructive force that ultimately kept me from being able to write Clexa for quite a long time. (But I have done some other writing in my time off. If you want to, come to my Tumblr to check it out.) 

Now this being said within a few weeks to a month I may be removing _this version_ of this story so that I may update it and repost it, without the C.O.L storyline as I wish to not have to include it any longer. Also, there are some revisions I would like to make in a few places.

And now the next chapter for you at long last. I hope you enjoy it. And again, thank you all of you.

May we meet again.

-Distant  
04.18.2017

\--==--

They arrived in the control room of the structure. Everyone was there shortly after them. There were chairs here, some tables. One chair was rusted but bigger than the others that Lexa went to first and sank into. She glanced at Clarke and then looked at the chair closest to hers. Clarke went and took it quickly. Then Lexa focused her gaze around to the other people in the room, grounders and skaikru alike, standing around the edges, “take a seat.” her voice was now formal.

Clarke was startled how fast the change had happened. But she said nothing. She watched as the grounders did as told, Echo and Leona and Allegany, all quickly moved to sit down at a chair. Aden and the night-bloods, which she was not sure should be at a war meeting, but again, traditions and customs, and even what was acceptable at what ages. Was different for grounders. You had to grow up fast because of survival. She ended that thought remembering this too was part of their training. Like a Secon trained with a warrior as children, and were even taken into battle – she would never forget Tris – the nightbloods were trained by Lexa.

And then suddenly watching them all be seated Clarke was really wishing in that moment that Indra was also here, which was strange. Her mom and Kane, Bellamy and Jasper and Raven and all the others from the Ark all looked at each other before finally taking a seat. Only then did Lexa speak again, “we don't have much time so we will make this brief as possible. Everyone here knows we are on the verge of war. Everyone here knows I should have been killed for treason. Everyone here knows...” she looked around the room that fell utterly silent, “I am in no true place of power to stop it.”

Clarke actually felt Lexa pause, to that effect. She felt the weight in the air. Because everyone here also knew what she was saying; that she could order them to do nothing. Clarke let her eyes drift around the table, meeting her mothers, meeting Kane's meeting Bellamy's and staying there for a second or two because she knew he was the most uneasy of all of them.

“But you are Heda.” Aden spoke at last, as though it bore no challenge in his mind, the things she had done. Echo lifted her chin and folded her arms, “we go where you are, Heda.”

Kane shifted in his chair, drawing not only Clarke's attention but everyone else's as well. He was nodding slowly in agreement and looking quickly at Abby before looking at Lexa and in so many words repeating what Echo had just said, “so do we.”

“And if it's war?” Lexa asked.

Clarke looked over at her and suddenly knew what she had to answer, “then it's war.”

Lexa nodded, “then its war.” she agreed.

“But you want to attack Polis?” Raven asked.

Everyone looked over at Lexa, some in surprise because they had not yet heard this. Some in expectation as to what she would say. Leona spoke up in determination, “Heda, I have been there. The city is surrounded by your army. Maybe, maybe some of them will be loyal and help us take back the city.”

Lexa shook her head, “we are not trying to take back Polis. The city is unobtainable at the moment.”

Clarke saw people sit back in surprise, Leona, even Raven, but Raven folded her arms and had that cautious, but the thoughtful look she wore when she was waiting to have something explained. So Clarke spoke up, “its too dangerous. There are thousands of innocent people in that city. For us to try and take back Polis would mean war on the streets which means thousands could die. We can't do that.” Clarke said with finality, using the same explanation Lexa had given her earlier.

Raven wrinkled her forehead and asked, “so what do you want to do?”

“Tell the truth.” Clarke answered.

“Storm the tower.” Lexa added, “gather everyone from there that I can that will come.”

“Dethrone Murphy,” Clarke continued, “bring him back here with us.”

“Give the people of Polis a chance to choose.” Lexa finished, “and let them come to us.”

Everyone at the table had watched this back and forth. But while they were absorbing it was Kane who spoke up, “Murphy?” he asked, “as in ...John Murphy? Is it true? Is he on the throne? I heard this in Tondc but..”

“He was made Heda when it was suspected Lexa was dead.” Clarke explained. That seemed to confuse not only Kane but everyone else, as well. Kane asked motioning with his hand for emphasis even if his words were said quietly, “how ..did he.. get elected Heda?”

“Commanders are reincarnated. You have to have a certain type of blood.” Clarke glanced quickly over to her mother, whom, she knew, would understand at least that part, if not the next, “Murphy had it.”

Abby spoke up, “the black blood?”

Clarke nodded, Lexa was watching her carefully but calmly so she knew she hadn't gone too far yet. Abby said next, “no. No. I have seen it. I have seen his blood many times. He has red blood.” She looked over at Lexa.

“According to Indra,” Lexa offered, “he does not. And so, we have to bring him back here.” She announced, “he is a Shard.”

Clarke saw the question on all their faces so she answered it before anyone spoke up, “a Shard is the leftover emotions and memories of a soul once bound to the commander. When the Commander reincarnates--” she broke off and looked over at Lexa, and paused. Maybe, this information was too much.

“It's not a secret.” Lexa spoke up, for her. She breathed in and set her hands on the table to look at each person there, “my people believe that when I die, my spirit will choose the next commander. We bond with another spirit. If it happens the other spirit is in turmoil in death, Shards break off. But they will keep up the cycle, jumping from host to host as each body dies. At some point in this process, it jumped into the one you call Murphy.”

“Reincarnation.” Abby spoke up, as though questioning to be sure of what she was hearing.

Clarke looked at her quickly, “yes, Mom.”

Bellamy spoke up, addressing Lexa, “but since you're not dead, how can there be this Shard?”

“I suspect,” Lexa answered, “it is a Commander before me. But why it has chosen now when the world believes me to be dead, I cannot be sure.”

“It fits the pattern,” Lincoln spoke up, at last, everyone looked at him. He leaned forward a little and asked, “you die. People come forward. Heda, can this Shard be fake?”

“If it knows enough information to be on the throne in Polis,” Lexa answered, “I do not think so.”

“We won't know anything more about it until we bring Murphy here.” Clarke answered. She looked across at Lexa then, “but with the world believing Lexa to be dead, that will mean a few things.”

“It will,” Lexa continued on, “most think I am a traitor. It is a good possibility they will try to kill me on sight.”

“So,” Clarke added, “we have to find a way to prevent that.”

“Lexa,” Kane said carefully, Clarke noticed Lexa look over at him. It also came to Clarke's mind, for some strange reason, that Kane was probably only one of a few allowed to refer to Lexa by her first name that Lexa seemed to actually approve of. She heard of their beginning, and maybe that had something to do with it. Lexa was huge on sacrifice for one's people. Kane went on, “why do they want you dead...” he asked. Lexa opened her mouth to speak but Kane was quick, “I mean, we know about your punishment for what happened at the Mountain. But why kill you on sight?”

“For the same reason that they put me on the tree. I have the commander's spirit. Until I am dead, it cannot move on.” Lexa answered.

“Which is why them seeing you,” Abby added it up, “would reveal the truth.”

“Yes.” Lexa said, “leaving the people free to choose for themselves what they will do next, fight with us or against us, or nothing at all.”

“A War of Redemption.” Kane murmured, rubbing his forehead. He looked up at Lexa, “for the Coalition? The truth will set you free.”

“And the Clans,” she nodded again, “yes. I have fought many wars,” Lexa added, “but never one like this.”

“Reincarnation is a strong belief in their culture, mom.” Clarke spoke up. She looked over at Lexa who still seemed relaxed and controlled. So Clarke added, “they even believe if they kill themselves they can't come back.”

“Wait a minute,” Raven spoke up, lifting up a hand to stop them all. She looked at Lexa, “You, have your ..commander's spirit?” Raven asked slowly, “and if you kill yourself? You can't come back?”

“Yes.” Lexa said again, more carefully this time, “it is the same for me as for everyone.”

“And they want this spirit?” Raven continued. Clarke felt a little nervous, hearing this tone from Raven, the one that said she was coming up with a plan. Raven went on, “that's why they tried to kill you.”

“I have said so.” Lexa answered, also slowly, carefully as well. She too glanced at Clarke before looking at Raven and asked, “why?”

Raven sat back in her chair, a slow grin spreading over her face, “I know how to keep you from getting dead on sight.”

“Go on.” Lexa replied.

Raven grinned fully now and folded her arms, “we hold your spirit hostage.”

“How?” Clarke asked.

Raven shrugged non-noncommittally, “she threatens to blow herself up if someone moves to kill her.”

“Wait, What!” Clarke shot out of her chair, “that's your plan?”

“Clarke!” Lexa also stood up and glanced over at her quickly, “it could work.”

Clarke stared at her, “I can't believe I'm hearing this. You are not going to threaten to blow yourself up!”

Raven broke in, “oh, I can make a--”

“--it's not happening!” Clarke cut her off, glaring at her before looking at Lexa. Lexa had that look in her eyes though that said she was seriously thinking about this and Clarke found herself shaking her head, “don't. You said you wouldn't die easily.”

“And I won't.” Lexa steeled herself, her eyes, her jaw, as she stared at Clarke, “Raven is right. No one would risk the chance of my Spirit not coming back.”

“This, is insane.” Clarke challenged, “you would not think of something like this. Much less consider it.”

“Wouldn't I?” Lexa asked back quickly, her brow ticked just a tiny bit and her jaw tightened the way it does when she had to say something she didn't want to, “my own life, for my people?”

Shit. Clarke felt her insides cave in with defeat. Put like that, she knew, this was very much something Lexa would do. So she said, “so we call their bluff? You don't really plan to kill yourself? Just tell them you will?”

Lexa relaxed just a tiny bit, “Clarke,” she said, Clarke felt her wanting to reach to touch her, to smooth back her hair, to touch her face, but she knew Lexa wouldn't. Lexa wasn't completely allowed to be here. Lexa reminded, “we are doing this ..to tell the truth.”

Clarke set her jaw, “if you insist on wearing a bomb then I'm doing it too.”

The room went still around them, the air was suddenly weighted. Clarke heard her mother's chair push back. She heard her mother speak up, “now wait...” but Clarke didn't answer. She held Lexa's gaze straight on.

Lexa's head finally twitched, just a little, to look toward Clarke, “you do not have to. Only I do.”

Clarke stayed firm, setting a hand to the table to keep her balance together because she was shaking hard inside with so many things, with rage and fear, with determination and ..and... “if you're doing this, I am doing it too. And you can't stop me. Can you say there is no risk now?” Clarke knew it was a dick move, playing this card. She wanted to shout at Lexa, she wanted to shout at her that she couldn't stand to be left here without her if she died. She watched emotions play behind Lexa's green eyes, the same ones she was feeling. They were at a wall again but facing it as both; leaders and lovers, this time. Clarke watched calculations form in her mind.

Lexa's eyes fluttered so slightly, in that slight blink she did sometimes. Before she swallowed whatever she was feeling down, folded her arms and said, “fine.”

Clarke felt her mouth drop open in shock. This was not the answer she had expected. Abby got up, “what are--”

“--then we won't do it,” Lexa cut her off quickly, she glared around the table as though waiting for anyone to challenge her. But they didn't. Clarke was too busy exhaling and trying to not fall over from having held her breath so long when Abby visibly exhaled and dropped into her seat. Lexa looked at Clarke again and search her eyes, “we go in like we are? With just our skill?”

“We bet on us?” Clarke asked back, she glanced toward everyone at the table to include them in that statement. Everyone who was staring silently, some with mouths open a little, some not breathing, some not looking but tapping their hands on the table uncomfortably like Bellamy was doing, some like jasper whom had pushed back his chair and was hanging his head in his hands. Clarke looked back at Lexa to punctuate the question.

Lexa nodded, “we bet on us.”

“Soo..” Raven began, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “then ...we don't need the suicide vest?”

Lexa sat back down, “Clarke and I will be taken to the tower in one of the smaller helicopters.” In this way, she changed the subject swiftly and directly as she was known for. Clarke was glad in that second and still coming down from the disagreement about Lexa deciding to blow herself up or not, placing herself into the equation had stopped that line of thought as she had hoped. But her legs were still a little bit like jelly as she too sat back down. Lexa added, “the larger helicopter will also be taken to the tower, to bring our numbers there and also to get anyone who will come with us out.”

“I will fly that one.” Raven offered, realizing that her suicide vest was now not part of the equation. She cleared her throat, “it has a back hatch, like a ramp, that I can back up to your tower.”

“The top floor of the tower has an open balcony,” Lexa replied. She nodded at Raven, “which will work well for your idea.”

“I will fly the other.” Monty spoke up for the first time. Right as he did everyone looked over at him and he looked suddenly, if fractionally, nervous, “that is if...”

“Of course,” Clarke cut him off because she knew what he was about to say, “of course we want you to. Thank you.”

“You have one other pilot, yes?” Lexa asked.

In the back of the room Wick half-hardheartedly raised his hand, “here.” He paused a second before lowering his hand and adding, “if you are asking if I could take another of the helicopter's into Polis, then yes.”

Clarke spoke up, “We will need as many as we can get to get as many of the people out of the tower that we can get.”

So, finally, did Jasper, “that is assuming they will go with you.” he rubbed his hands together and looked over at both, Lexa and Clarke.

Clarke paused for only a beat before she had her answer, “well, we want to give them a chance.”

Allegany spoke up, “I think Luna will come if she is there. It means her Clan will come.”

Lexa nodded, “which will be a huge help for our cause.”

Leona looked briefly at Luna and then at Lexa, “the Trikru are divided, Heda. Not badly as the Azgeda. But the division is still there.”

Clarke thought perhaps she was the only one who could tell that Lexa had very quickly, glanced at her out of the corner of her eye before she answered, “the Trikru are loyal to Clarke,” she answered matter-of-factly, “and Indra.”

“They don't know you are alive, Heda.” Leona said, shortly.

Lexa answered, “they will, soon.”

Echo had been studying them from the minute the Azgeda were brought up. Clarke finally saw her sit forward, “most of my people, are loyal to the queen, Heda. But let's not forget,” she said, letting her eyes circle the table, “that there are some, who aren't.”

“I know,” Lexa answered, “or you wouldn't be sitting here.” she too looked around the table to enforce what Echo had just said, “let's not forget this. The Azgeda, as individuals, are to be given a chance. Any that come to us, have my protection for their loyalty.”

Echo paused a second before adding, “one you should watch for, is Ontari.”

Lexa was curious, “Ontari?”

Echo nodded, “she is close to the queen. I don't know why.”

“I see.” Lexa answered. She paused a second as though considering something with enough thought that it made tension in the room that Clarke wasn't sure why was there. Finally, Lexa asked, “and prince Roan?”

“I do not know.” Echo answered, “I do know. He is unhappy with his mother for some of her ...choices.”

The last word fell like a brick, or so it felt, to Clarke, who saw the word effect Lexa by the smallest shift of her jaw. She acknowledged with the same two words again, “I see.” Lexa's eyes moved slightly then around the table, “watch for Roan as well.” she decided.

That caught Clarke's attention like nothing else. She felt her face twitch, and her eyes, as she glanced quickly over at Lexa. But she also could tell this was not a moment to question. But Lexa wasn't moving, just staring as if into nothing but her stance spoke volumes about walls being up. So Clarke cleared her throat and changed the subject, “none of you have to do this. It is your choice.”

“I'm in.” Abby spoke up suddenly.

Everyone turned in surprise at that. Clarke felt herself look at her, “mom..”

“Look if you are going into Polis and charging a tower,” Abby added, “you are going to need some medical help.”

“We accept.” Lexa said coolly.

Kane spoke up as well, “well now we know where you get it from,” he nodded at Clarke and offered her a half smile. Then he straightened in his chair, “count me in too.”

Bellamy's voice was more sullen, “and me.”

“And me.” Harper echoed Bellamy, speaking for the first time.

It was evident though, in her posture, her arms folded, that she had been listening to this entire conversation very intently. Jasper followed her up, “and me.” his eyes slid over to Clarke's. Miller also pushed his chair back and folded his arms, “'course I'm in.”

“And us, Heda.” Octavia spoke up, at last, glancing at Lincoln before looking at Lexa again, and then Clarke. Lincoln nodded agreement.

“And I.” Echo said directly.

Leona looked at Allegany, who nodded once and they spoke for them both, “and us.”

“You have my thanks,” Lexa answered smoothly.

But Clarke was finding it a little difficult to swallow. Because in front of her right now, Skaikru and Grounders, in one way or another, were finally on the same side for the same cause, again. So Clarke did swallow, “thank you.” she added, her voice was hoarse.

“Okay,” Lexa went on, “now you should know it may take every single one of us in this room to take even a part of the Tower. This will only be taking down the forces already in there. They will retaliate. Our enemies will eventually present themselves in extremely strong numbers. But they will have to start from the ground floor up. Before it becomes overwhelming.” she glanced around the table at every face there before finishing, “we retreat to the helicopters. We will not be able to stand against massed numbers for long. And our mission is not that. Our mission is to be seen, take the one called John Murphy, and to get out those ones whom will come with us that we can.”

“But what about who is left?” Raven spoke up. This caused everyone to look over at her, “I mean,” she added, there has to be some who wants to come with us that we won't be able to stay around to help get out of there.”

“They will flee the capital.” Lexa said with confidence, “seeing the truth. If they will side with us. They will flee. And we will have to find them.”

“We will,” Clarke added in, “and we will bring them here.” Lexa was nodding slowly next to her, staring at nothing as though turning this plan over in her head, as though examining it to be sure.

“Or to the Mountain.” Octavia spoke up.

“Or the mountain.” Lexa agreed.

“And if we are looking for them?” Bellamy asked suddenly, “and they have out flags of surrender to trick us and attack instead?”

“Then we fight back,” Octavia told her brother simply.

“Heda?” Aden spoke up suddenly. And everyone in the room looked his way. He and the other night-bloods had been so quiet that it was easy to forget they were here.

“Aden?” Lexa asked back.

He looked then at his classmates who were still as statues in their seats, listening and studying what was going on around them. Then he looked at Lexa again, “what about us?”

The question brought a round of sudden, uncomfortable silence. Clarke felt herself holding her breath looking at Lexa's successors who were waiting for their answer, hopefully waiting to hear they would be coming as well. Some of them were well into their teens. But some of them, some of them really were just children.

“You and the other night-bloods from the school will be staying here.”

There was an audible breath of relief from the skaikru. And Clarke saw the slight shift of disappointment in their faces that was very quickly covered by rigorous days of training with a mask of no emotion. Aden simply nodded once and looked at the top of the table.

Lexa knew what they were feeling, the rejection, as though they were not good enough. And that was not it, “Aden,” she spoke again, causing him to look up. She looked at him. She looked at the six others each in turn as well, “and all the rest of you as well. I have said many times you are all worthy. Know I mean those words. Which is why you must stay here. If something happens to me out there..” she let the words hang, and looked at her seven students again.

And Clarke saw it, the minute it hit Aden, the importance of what his Heda was really saying. She saw his posture change entirely as though he had just been asked to protect a priceless gift. He finally nodded and he spoke again for all of them, “we understand, Heda.”

“Okay,” Lexa said finally. She turned to face the rest of the table, “then it is time. Jus drein,” she said, “jus daun.”

“Jus drein jus daun.” the grounders at the tables replied.

“Again,” Lexa said a little louder this time, “Jus drein jus daun.”

It was called back to her, a second time. Then Lexa smiled and was leading the chant as she had way back at the mountain before they moved on mount weather. And just like last time, Clarke joined in.


	56. Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally storm the Tower in Polis. Cheers ring out of the city - Heda is alive! But not everyone wants her that way, and not everything can always go as planned.

The crowds of Polis had returned as though out of no where, filling the streets until they were bursting at the seams. Houses had been un-shuttered and shops that had been closed re-opened their doors. Food was being cooked in the marketplace causing delicious smells to fill the air while the vendors were out in the streets once more, walking through crowds shouting out what they had to sell. The life that had been sucked from the capitol, was back and most all of the people in these crowds were buying gifts to be offered to the new Heda. At sunset, he was supposed to come down from the tower and walk in the streets and meet them.

Heda.

They had gravely missed their Heda.

It was more than a position. It was more than wielding great power. The Heda was the one whom they placed all of their beliefs in. Tree branches, now dried, with little red strings still lined the streets and walls but as of this morning they were being pushed back into corners as much as they could be to make room for everyone. The soul was the same. Even in a new body. And they needed to see their Heda again.

And so, when the sky turned golden and red above them, scattered with gray alto-cumulus clouds that looked like archipelago islands against yellow light – everyone was already looking up. They were massed around the tower in thick crowds. They were looking up for any sign ..of Heda.

But they were not expecting the sound that was suddenly beating toward them from behind them in the sky. It was quiet at first. But as it got louder and a little louder still, more and more people started to turn to look for it instead.

But they could see nothing yet, and whispers started to ripple through the crowds about what that noise was as it grew even louder. Whispers changed to shouting. But soon the noise even drowned shouting out. It was coming right at them and got louder even still causing everyone staring up to have to slam their hands over their ears. Its vibrations shook stones. It shook walls. It shook people's insides like jelly as they glared at the gold sky and suddenly three black objects came screaming over the walls..

“Skaikru!” the name was shouted by hundreds of voices that was just audible under the beating noise of the black machines. Whole crowds stood gape-mouthed as the helicopters tore low across the city air-

“ _People of Polis!”_ a familiar and angry voice called from the machines, _“you are following a false leader!”_

It took only a second for everyone in those streets to recognize whom it was shouting to them from out of the sky before most of the grown warriors and children alike were scrambling toward the black machines tearing through the air, scrambling toward them to try and be closer as they called her name back up to the sky, “Heda!” it rose out of the bowl of the city as a shocked cry loud enough to be heard in tandem with the helicopter's noise, “Heda!” Many were shouting, “she is alive!”

In the back of the helicopter, Clarke looked away from the window and over at Lexa, “well,” she said into the headset on her head, “they heard you.”

Lexa stepped back from the open door and lowered the megaphone in her hand, “they did.” she answered back into her own headset. Cautiously she looked over at Clarke, “now they know.” that was part one of their mission tonight.

“Now what?” Clarke asked, looking out they were closing fast on the tower and her stomach was turning into knots and knots of anxiety and dread.

“Now we fight,” Lexa answered, reaching for her headset she tugged it off and dropped it onto the floor of the helicopter. Clarke yanked her headset off as well, “okay,” she said, “now we fight.” Clarke dropped her headset as well. All she could hear after that was noise. But all she could see was Lexa's brave eyes and hard set of her jaw as Raven began to circle the Tower.

Clarke watched Lexa as they circled closer, as Raven tried to position the helicopter near the balcony of the top floor of the tower. She was grinding her jaw just a little, whites of her teeth showing as people from inside started streaming out onto the balcony. And then Murphy appeared, surrounded by warriors and startled ambassadors. Her irritation grew when she noticed he was wearing Lexa's red sash and warpaint.

Lexa's eyes narrowed on him bitterly. Standing alongside her Clarke could feel the sudden rage that was rolling off of her. This was a queen, she realized, about to fight for her throne.

Lexa yanked her swords loose.

No, not a queen and not for her throne, Clarke thought, she felt for her gun and drew it carefully. This was a warrior about to fight for a greater cause, her people.

The helicopter pulled to a stop at the balcony lip.

Without even a split second warning Lexa roared and jumped out. She landed on the balcony with a shout over-riding that roar, “with or against me!” bringing her swords out as Clarke jumped onto the balcony edge, not quite as balanced, beside her. Murphy was startled. Clarke raised an eyebrow at him and shouted, “Hi!”

“Clarke?” he shouted, as though trying to understand what he was seeing. Everyone else there seemed to not understand as well. So Clarke explained for them, “Yeah!” she looked at Lexa, “and Heda! The _real_ one!”

“What is this?!” a woman standing just a bit closer to Lexa than the others shouted.

“He is a fake, Luna!” Lexa stared across at Murphy and at her ambassadors and generals and warriors gathered to capacity on the ledge. Far below in one voice, the city was still shouting. Clarke looked over the dizzying drop to the packed crowds below, thousands of voices just audible under the beating blades of the circling helicopters shouting out one cry – Heda.

Again, and again and again.

Heda!

Heda!!

_Heda!!!_

On the ledge one ambassador in rough patched leather clothes with paint stripes under his eyes finally understood -or thought he understood- what he was seeing, “she has come back from the dead!...”

Warriors grabbed onto Murphy as they heard this, turned and ran with him as they could into the tower. He wasn't protesting, he was running fast as he could, red cloak billowing behind him--

Clarke moved to go after him but was stopped with a fist to her shoulder, “no!” a general with Ice Nation markings and clothing shoved her again, she was stopped from falling from the ledge by Lexa's gloved fist. The general snarled something she couldn't understand followed with, “she never even killed her!” steel came out and dashed toward her head but before she could blink and with a flash of silver Lexa's swords swirled chopping into the center of the General's throat.

With a loud cry of remittance, Lexa kicked Flonn off her blade and over the side of the balcony. Others in her way fled into the tower as he fell. She strode forward after them quickly, purpose in her step not having to run. Clarke was a step behind her on one side her face set in the same lock of determination she felt. Luna instantly flanked her other side as the others spilled out of the next helicopter arriving at the ledge behind them.

Throwing the white curtains aside Lexa advanced into her throne room. It was familiar. It was her place once and still was. It was her walls. Her candles. Her floor. Her throne of wood and spears. But it did not feel safe and it did not feel like home. The doors ahead were still banging and swinging in front of her from the stampede of those fleeing. The guards to each side had stayed, white faced with shock. As had a handful of ambassadors ashen and cringing with lowered heads along the walls, “H ...Heda..” one ambassador tried to speak and couldn't quite get the word out.

She stopped her momentum and looked at them, “on your feet!” she ordered, “that is enough cowering.” Clarke came to a stop beside her. The others formed a wall at their backs. Lexa went on, “with or against me?!”

They looked at each other quickly as though still trying to get themselves together, and ran toward where Lexa was, joining into the forming wall of Skaikru and Gona at her back. Striding onward through that room she came to the men at each side of the door. Stopping in their space she grabbed the closest one by the throat and slammed him back into the wall, “with or against me?” she asked in his face. She had a feeling he would stay. So far he had not run.

“With...” he stammered terribly but met her eyes, “with you, Heda.” he glanced at his companion, “both of us.” the other guard nodded reverently and fell on her knees and Lexa let the first go. She passed by them for the corridor outside the door.

It ran to the right and to the left, leading into various places in her tower. With the noise from outside muffled behind her she could now hear many sets of boots fleeing downstairs echoing back to her like a tale-a-tale trail and she broke into a run following the sound, fast as she could over the old concrete floor of the left side of the corridor. Those behind her may not have expected it. But Clarke caught her at the first turn, “if Murphy gets down far enough--” she called across.

“They will kill him,” Lexa answered back.

Luna caught up to them her armor jingling, “to impersonate Heda is death.”

Stairs down were ahead. They started down them at a fast clip. Octavia caught up with them as well here as did Lincoln and Kane, “you run fast!” Kane accused Clarke as they kept circling down.

“Dad took me running each morning!” Clarke called back to him.

Normally, they should be quiet so the enemy didn't hear them. But that didn't matter in this instant the enemy already knew they were coming, that they were there. So Lexa didn't bother to hush them. At the bottom of the stairs though she suddenly slammed to a stop, opening her arms out at her sides as she did to stop everyone in place on the steps that was following behind her. Her eyes slid side to side around the parts of the corridor in front of her that could be seen. But other than that she didn't move a muscle. Because everything looked and felt very empty and quiet. There were no cringing servants. No warriors waiting to aid them. At the base of these steps something felt very wrong and she could hear her rag-tag troupe breathing anxiously and hard behind her.

Clarke came up nearer to her and looked at her. Slowly she turned her face to look back at her. Clarke was holding her breath but finally let it go in a whisper, “what is it?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Bellamy asked as well, coming down the stairs with the remaining warriors they had picked up, and the skaikru. Echo trailed last with him, as did her two night-blood companions. At a glance, their numbers were growing as more and more people rallied to her and Clarke's cause – but not enough if Murphy had been taken down too far.

“They are here,” Lexa searched the shadows and parts of the corridor ahead that she could see again, everyone behind her she kept barricaded in the stairs, “but out of our line of sight.” there were too many closed doorways out there where the enemy could hide. There was also so much space that they could not see from the stairwell. Her lips went dry and she pulled in deep breaths wrestling with how to handle it, “they will come at us,” she decided. It didn't matter if they ran out first, it didn't matter if they waited. They were going to meet the enemy right here and she had hoped to get a little further down into the tower before the odds fell.

Abby asked over Clarke's shoulder, “what are they waiting on?”

Lexa turned her head slowly to look at her. Abby Griffin was clearly an amazing healer but a strategist, she was not. Clarke looked at her mother as well and spoke at the exact same time as Lexa, “reinforcements.”

Abby's eyes widened just a little and her mouth snapped shut as she glanced past them and into the corridor. Kane put a hand on her shoulder as though to calm her but when he spoke his words were directed at Lexa, “well, they have seen you.”

Lexa stared into the hall ahead of them, “that is certain.” she weighed her choices in her mind. The longer they waited, the greater the enemy numbers were going to be and it felt they had already been in this stairwell far too long. She could hear the seconds ticking past on Clarke's watch right beside her.

“Should we go back?” Bellamy Blake's voice was quiet and direct.

“No,” Lexa didn't turn her gaze from in front of her, “we don't have John Murphy.” Someone was going to have to go out there. Someone, or maybe something. They could throw something and trick the waiting enemy to move-

Bellamy spoke again, “he could already be dead.”

“And then the Shard will have jumped into someone else,” Lexa snapped at Bellamy with a slight glare over her shoulder his way. She saw him flinch back a little as he glared back at her probably for correcting him. She didn't care if his feelings were harmed. They had more important things on their plates. Lexa looked ahead again, “we have to stop him.”

“How?” the question was from Clarke, and by the tone she knew that Clarke knew exactly what Lexa was thinking. Lexa turned to look into blue eyes under war paint and said it anyway, “one of us is going to have to--”

“Gon ai Heda!” sword raised Luna charged past Lexa and into the bare corridor in front of them. Lexa whirled in time to see her general swallowed in a flood of mostly azgeda warriors. But there were no archers, “advance!” she shouted, charging from the stairs and plunging in.

Within seconds she was in an angry vortex of warriors cutting at her, of shouting, of steel hitting steel, and firing guns. Lexa swirled her swords quickly. She connected them with the bones in people's throats. She chopped with them like butcher's axes opening up skulls. She took a stinging cut across her face. She kicked the warrior that put it there. They hit the floor and she rammed her blade into their throat until the end jarred against the concrete floor. Clarke was picking off the enemy at the corner of her eye sight, punctuating their death's with bullets from her gun. She saw Abby with her. She saw Allegany shove a spear through a warrior nearby. Everyone who had come down the stairs was fighting incredibly hard. Lexa yanked her sword loose of the body. A sword was swinging for her neck. She caught it on one blade at the last second and shoved the woman holding it back from her, using the few seconds it took for the woman to find balance to shove her other sword through her stomach and up into her ribs. Lexa yanked the sword free. As the body dropped black blood from somewhere nearby splashed across her, and it took her a second to know it wasn't her own - Leona had fallen. So had the boy called Jasper. And Bellamy. Their guns were empty, Lexa realized. Out of the corner of her eye she started to see Abby start to move to take them away. Lexa's breath came out through clenched teeth now. And then ahead through the fighting she saw the one called John Murphy.

His hands were tied. His feet chained together. He was shoved into an alcove. The enemy had him by the neck and arms holding him there behind a wall of fighting, “Murphy!” the name was ripped out of Lexa's mouth as though torn from the Commander soul itself. Blocking with one sword and cutting with the other, grinding her teeth so hard she tasted blood in her mouth she pushed forward to get to him. But suddenly she was surrounded on all sides, and suddenly she was taking far too many cuts. They stung but she kept going and fighting, cutting back as many as she could but her blood was leaking too fast and her vision was blurring.

“Heda!” Luna's voice shouted right beside her. Lexa shoved her sword through the heart of an enemy warrior as she glanced at Luna. Luna shouted again, “your back to mine, Heda!”

Lexa obeyed gratefully and fighting together they were able to advance just a little more toward John Murphy. Being in a better position now to find off her opponents by stabbing them in the belly or throat, Lexa was painfully aware that behind her back Luna was taking the harder blows of the enemy trying to cut through her to reach her. She felt Luna fighting for all she had. She also felt her wincing. She felt her stumbling with each step and finally Luna started yelling, “heda! Heda! ...Heda!!” as though believing that Lexa's life depended on hers now.

Lexa felt her fall.

And she could do nothing.

In anger, she hacked into whoever opposed her in front of her. She split someone's head. She shoved her sword through someone's heart. She kicked the body loose. Pulling back as she did to find someone else had a sword aimed at her stomach. Lexa stepped back from it fast and the blade sank into her thigh. Wrenching away and stumbling a little she yanked the blade out and buried it deep in its owner's chest--

That was when Clarke suddenly shoved in beside her. Lexa caught a sight of flashing blue eyes and bloody blonde hair, gun forgotten Clarke had a captured sword in her hand that stabbed fast and desperately, even without skill, as Clarke punched into warriors with it as she filled the gap left by Luna, “mom and Harper took her, Lexa!”

Lexa nodded. She dodged a blade and used the space it created to slam one of her swords into her attacker's ribs. She thought the noise of fighting was dying down. She thought she heard a retreat calling. She didn't know for sure. With Clarke fighting next to her she swung both blades low at the same time and cut through the legs of the next enemy in her face clear to the bones. He fell and died in a series of screams as she brought both swords viciously down to stab through his chest to the floor below him. Yanking them loose she turned swiftly to kill her next but found there were none.

She had just killed the last one.

Lexa wiped blood away from her forehead that was dripping into her eyes with the back of her hand as she looked around the hallway. Blood was on the cracked walls, like some sick abstract painting. Only the dying enemy lay moaning on the floor. Her own fighters of both Gona and Skaikru already taken away. Everyone was staring at her. Everyone was staring at Clarke.

Lexa inhaled deeply in spite of the smell already being unbearable, “we don't have--” long. She was about to say. But at that minute, out of the corner of her eye -as though what had just happened had caught up with him and he realized that everyone who had been between himself and them lay dead- she saw Murphy try and bolt down the hallway.

She hadn't forgotten him.

And he was a fool to think he could escape.

As she expected his ties and chains hindered him and made it nearly impossible for him to run. In fact he'd only managed just two stumbling steps before she dropped her swords with a clanging noise as they hit the floor, closed the distance and caught him by the arm. He yelled. She threw him against the wall and grabbed him by the throat and tightened her fingers, “we have what we came for!” she shouted out. Clarke came up to her and stopped stiffly, “Murphy,” she asked him, “what the hell have you done?”

“I should be asking you that, Princess.” Murphy coughed black blood out of his mouth with what was probably the last of his breath with the grip Lexa had on him, “right place, right time?”

If she was startled by the blood Clarke didn't show it, “impersonating the Commander is punishable by death.”

“I'm not impersonating anyone,” apparently Murphy had another wheeze of air in him. He glared at Clarke. He glared at Lexa, “ _I_ am Heda!”

Lexa ripped him away from the wall as though he was nothing more than a badly framed painting and started dragging him back toward the others. But as she did the noise of an army charging stairs echoed its way up to her from the lower parts of the tower, “we have to get out of here, now!”

“Heda?” Octavia stepped in close. Her eyes moved to Murphy who was still squirming.

“Get him to the helicopter!” Lexa shoved Murphy at her and Octavia took off running with him toward the floor above. Grabbing her swords off the floor Lexa shoved them into the sheaths on her back and turned on the rest, “that goes for all of you, get to the helicopters now! Retreat!”

As though unfrozen, everyone ran or limped as quickly as they could toward the stairs. But Lexa turned to face the direction leading to the levels below, and the noise spilling louder and louder up from them--

“Lexa...” Clarke tugged at her hand.

“Clarke,” it came out through clenched teeth as she stared toward the noise. She had to make sure everyone else got out, “..go. Go to the helicopter, Clarke.”

“Not without you.”

“Clarke!” Lexa glared at her finally, “now isn't the time for!...”

“That's all of them, Lexa!” Clarke pulled at her hand again, “let's go!”

Lexa glanced over. Clarke was right. The corridor was empty now except for the bodies and the two of them. Tightening her grip on Clarke's hand she turned and ran toward the stairs.

She ran for all she could, pulling Clarke with her. But it still felt like her feet were sticking to the steps as she started up them, each step feeling like a mountain she had to leap, a chore.

“--Leksa kom Trikru!” the angry should from behind them was loud as it ripped through the air. Lexa looked behind her without breaking her stride and suddenly it seemed like slow motion as a woman with shining black hair and azgeda scars marking her face and dozens of warriors started spilling into the hallway behind them. They had archers. Lexa shoved Clarke hard against the wall to protect her when the whistling of arrows started past them and ground her teeth hard in her mouth when one arrow slammed painfully into the soft spot under the blade of her shoulder.

She stumbled, feeling walls and floors under her hands as she caught herself on them.

“-Lexa!” Everything sped up again suddenly. Clarke grabbed her and they took the last steps into the corridor above. Arrows skittered across the floor haplessly after them as they kept running. With a grunt Lexa reached behind her and broke off the end of the one protruding out of her body and tossed it down. Ahead the doors of her throne room were still thrown wide. Kane was waiting under the door, “Commander!” he shouted, reaching toward her.

She slapped her hand into his. Kane pulled her the rest of the way through and she pulled Clarke with her into the throne room and the noise of the helicopters filled in. Several warriors jostled them as they ran past, toward the stairwell, “for Heda!” one of them cried as they caught her eye and vanished through the door. Right outside of it, fighting could suddenly be heard.

“Lexa, we have to go now!” Clarke's voice shouted in her ear above the noise. She glanced across quickly to see Clarke holding a hand toward her. Kane was waiting just a few steps behind her. Lexa knew what her warriors were doing, giving everyone else a chance to live and fight another day.  She glanced quickly back toward the fighting in the hallway toward the ones giving their lives that they might escape, “your sacrifice will not be in vain.” she whispered toward her falling warriors even if they would never hear her.

Lexa turned and grabbed Clarke's hand.

The three of them raced across the red runner of the throne room together. The sound of the helicopter blades screaming through the throne room only got louder when they made it out to the balcony.

Wind from the blades of one of the Blackhawk's ripped at Lexa's hair. Kane jumped into the waiting helicopter first and leaned out of it, reaching toward them. In the distance the other helicopters were already flying away, “Heda!” Kane shouted, “Clarke!”

Lexa looked at Clarke. Clarke was looking back at her. “Go!” Lexa shouted to her over the noise. Clarke took Kane's hand and he pulled her into the helicopter. When he reached out again Lexa wrapped her fingers around his wrist at the same time his fingers closed on hers and he yanked her deep into the helicopter's belly as well.

Stumbling on vibrating plating Lexa kept her footing by grabbing a rail. Struggling to breathe from the rush of after-battle adrenaline coursing through her she felt dizzy as the helicopter spun away from her tower framing it like a picture in the opening of the door as the black-haired woman she had seen below gripping bloodied swords and a dozen others flooded out onto the balcony. She narrowed her eyes on Lexa. Rising to her full height, Lexa stiffened her spine, stood in the door and stared back at her coldly across the distance of dozens of feet growing between them. Something else was growing in the air as well other than distance, a chill? A challenge? A truth.

The woman got smaller and smaller and faded into the shape of the tower. Lexa stared until she couldn't see her anymore. Only then did she turn around to face the cabin.

Her different wounds were finally hurting and bleeding a little, especially the arrow lodged under the blade of her shoulder. She saw Kane move away and into the corner of the helicopter. She saw Octavia and she saw the one called John Murphy that had her Shard bound on his stomach on the floor-

She saw Clarke.

She was standing in the door across the one they had just come through, blonde hair bloodied and tangling in the rushing wind. Her mask of paint streaked and ruined with blood as she stared at Polis far below. The battle adrenaline burned in Lexa harder, “Clarke!” Her cry was swallowed up by the noise. She had to get to her. Struggling for balance in the moving flying machine and feeling the eyes of the others on her she went to where Clarke was stiffly standing. Blue eyes looked up and blazed into hers the second she reached her space.

_Clarke._ Lexa felt her heart skip. Especially when Clarke just turned away and looked down toward her city again. Lexa stepped to the edge. The toe of her boot hung over. She looked down into the streets of Polis herself as they swept past below.

People were fighting in the streets. Outside the wall, as they swept over it, her army had turned on each other. From up in the air Lexa watched her coalition breaking. And even now risen from ashes, she was sure she had never felt so cold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a very long time in the making and in being posted for you. And it has changed in many ways as it has developed and as I have. 
> 
> I suspect there are only 2-3 more chapters of this work. But there is still the second half of this story to come. There will also be an announcement at that time and until then some special treats _(and another very special announcement coming soon about something I've been working on for over a year)_ and more fics for you _(including[ 'Lullaby of the Giant Five'](https://adistantstarblog.tumblr.com/post/161442028540/lullaby-of-the-giant-five) which my in-the-works big Clexa Au Chapter fic will be based on)_ at my [ Tumblr.](https://adistantstarblog.tumblr.com/) I hope you will come visit and follow me there at adistantstarblog.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me through this. I love you all. 
> 
> -DistantStar


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